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Chapter Text

The first thing Kallus took note of was how bright the room was. 

Three white lights intensely beat down on his face, surrounding him, as he sat in silence with his hands cuffed behind his back, kneeling in front of the gangly Loyalty Officer in front of him. The lights were bright enough that Kallus had to squint to avoid the glare as he stared up at the figure standing with his hands behind his back, dressed in LO white, his hat fitted nicely on dark hair that curled just slightly at the ends. All details Kallus could barely make out, as the lights cast a shadow over the Officer, making it nearly impossible for Kallus to see clearly. 

Kallus wasn't used to something like this, how could he be? Before the night with Garazeb, he'd been a loyal officer, someone whose devotion and integrity were never questioned or challenged. He never had any need to meet with a Loyalty Officer of this sort, kriff, he himself was something of an LO!

 Though he was an agent and not necessarily a Loyalty Officer, the point still stood; Kallus didn't know what it was like behind the doors of the interrogation rooms. He didn’t know what went on past the locked doors, where different Empire personnel were aggressively questioned or conditioned and captured enemies of the Empire were tortured and sometimes silenced forever. 

No, Agent Kallus didn’t know what it was behind those closed doors. He didn’t know what the rooms looked like, if they were isolating and dark or if they were exposing and bright. He didn’t know how it felt to have your dignity stripped from you as you kneeled, reeling on the floor, or the feeling of being strapped to a contraption that made one beg for death. 

Kallus simply knew the sounds…the sounds of screaming, crying, bones breaking, the sound of blows landing, or probe droids humming their silent violent song. So how could he possibly know that alongside all of that came a blinding brightness in the small room? 

What he did know a little more about was the Loyalty Officer standing in front of him, hands on his hips, peering down into Kallus with a cold gaze, void of all emotion except for great curiosity. 

A curiosity that made Kallus feel like an animal on display, being examined and studied, mocked and taunted. A curiosity that made his skin crawl, his hair stand on end, his stomach churn, and his palms sweat in anticipation because this kind of curiosity was not to be taken lightly.

Especially from the peering dark eyes of Sinjir Rath Velus . 

Kallus had heard stories about this Loyalty Officer, he knew the man was good at his job and that he had never failed to retrieve just what he wanted from his prey, through word of mouth. He had never met the man, had never seen him or had a conversation, but then again, why would he have? 

What need would the best ISB Agent the Empire had ever groomed have for a Loyalty Officer? To have doubted Kallus’ loyalty was treason enough, yet here Kallus was, bowing down to the unyielding force of Sinjir Rath Velus. 

“Now this is interesting,” Sinjir spoke, breaking the prolonged silence that had filled the bright room after he’d arrived and beaten Kallus down onto the ground, further increasing the pain and injuries Kallus had already obtained in his scuffle with Thrawn.

“Very interesting indeed,” Sinjir mused as he walked towards Kallus with tantalizingly slow steps. His voice was smooth like Corellian rum, filled with a cheerful hum and crisp with an Imperial accent. It made Kallus’ ears buzz. 

“You happen to be the first ISB agent who’s ever had the pleasure of being interrogated by me! Lucky you.” the LO’s sickly sweet voice was full of genuine joy at the statement as if he was really expecting Kallus to be happy at the fact, he even added a few claps for that matter before squatting down to meet Kallus at eye level. 

Of course, it was spoken in sarcasm, though without a lick of the sarcastic tone. A lesser man wouldn’t have picked up on it, but the glee behind those swarthy eyes, the aggressive stroke on Kallus’ cheek, and the reputation Sinjir held were all enough for Kallus’ to know that he was mocking him.

He wasn’t going to let the man get to him though, he refused. Instead, he held his head up high, glaring at Sinjir as he spat; “I’d hardly call this an interrogation-“ 

Kallus started moving a leg underneath him, planting his foot down in an attempt to stand back up to show Sinjir he wouldn’t - couldn’t - keep him down. If Sinjir was going to stare at him, picking him apart like a meal a fussy child was displeased with, then Kallus was going to stare back at eye level, unyielding. 

However, as soon as Kallus had his footing, he was met with a quick, hard fist to his side, making him gasp out in surprise and pain as he lost footing. Eyes wide and side throbbing, Kallus was back on his knees, his head bowed forward as he inhaled sharply, barely processing what had happened. 

“Know your place,” Sinjir commanded in a whisper, leaned forward now, just inches away from Kallus’ beating ears, “pathetic rat.”

Kallus only got a moment to look up and turn his head towards Sinjir to glare when the Loyalty Officer was already pulling away, a satisfied look on his face. 

Up close now, Kallus could get a better look at the man who was interrogating him. To Kallus’ slight surprise, Sinjir was human. The way that officers had described the man in whispers of fear to each other, Kallus would have thought he was some otherworldly demon, but he was simply just as human as Kallus was. 

He had skin as dark as sakai-wood, his face was sharp, his nose long and hooked; like it had been punched and broken sometime before. His eyes though, dark like Canto Bight whiskey, were the standout feature. They felt like searchlights on Kallus, glancing ever so slightly at every movement Kallus made, a storm of curiosity and delight that held Kallus’ breath in suspense. 

Everything about this man was clean and crisp, as it should be with Loyalty Officers such as himself. His beard was trimmed, his hair was combed, and there wasn’t a wrinkle on his clothes or his face, everything was just as how the Empire wished it should be. To Kallus, it was almost like looking in a mirror, or at least a mirror in the past, before Bahryn, before Fulcrum. Now, Kallus knew the mirror would show a different self. 

“I suppose you are right though,” Sinjir shrugged, pulling away from him, breaking Kallus away from his thoughts while also looking rather pleased with himself, as if he hadn’t just knocked the wind out of him, “I’ve hardly asked any questions yet, haven’t I?” 

No response. 

Since the time that Kallus was thrown into the room by troopers accompanying Thrawn and Sinjir had stepped into the room with Pryce’s accompaniment, no questions had been asked. There were only commands. Thrawn had told Kallus to beg for mercy for what he had in store for him. Pryce had told Sinjir to give him what a piece of rebel scum like him deserved. Sinjir had simply obeyed. Kallus did not. 

“Yes, I do suppose a punch to your eye-“ Sinjir reached out, leaning forward again, so he could grasp Kallus’ chin and force his face upwards towards himself, looking at the now bruising eye, “-isn’t quite a question.” 

Kallus yanked his head away, growling in warning, “No, I suppose it isn’t a question.” 

“Mmmh, it’s more of a statement,” Sinjir agreed, nodding his head. He pulled away, stepping back with a sigh that only angered Kallus due to its undisturbed tone as if Sinjir had absolutely no qualms about his job or what he was doing to Kallus. 

Sinjir started to walk, stepping carefully around Kallus, as if he were avoiding landmines, his hands behind his back as he tilted his chin upwards, pretending to be lost in thought. 

“Well, I guess I could start asking questions now,” he muttered, a long bony finger tapping at his forearm as he walked, “I could start out simple for you, how does that sound?” He looked at Kallus, his tone and expression as condescending as one talking to a lost child. 

“It was unwise not to request a probe droid,” Kallus scowled, ignoring the statement and doing his best to not be intimidated by the man who was enclosing in on him like an Aurean vulture, hungry to pick off the meat off of dry, bleached bones. 

Kallus turned his head, following Sinjir as he circled around, scowling as he clenched his fists behind his back, “You aren’t going to get anything out of me.” 

“On the contrary dear, I believe that I will,” Sinjir disputed, stopping to the side of Kallus, “If anything, I’m about the same as those droids, but do you want to know the difference between me and a droid?” He stepped closer and laid a hand on Kallus’ shoulder, head tilted as he looked down at the man. 

Kallus tensed slightly at the touch, eyes slowly shifting over to the long fingers that were now placed on his shoulder, simply resting nicely on top of it. He wasn’t quite sure where Sinjir was going with this, but he didn’t want to give the man the satisfaction of knowing Kallus didn’t know the answer or that he was afraid of the answer. 

Sneering, Kallus looked up at Sinjir; “One talks a lot less, that’s for sure.”

Sinjir’s grip tightened ever so slightly, making Kallus wince at the pain Sinjir’s fingertips were doing as they pressed into the space in between his chest and arm.

“No,” he answered, exhaling through his nose, “it’s because I know the human body in ways that a droid doesn’t.” 

His grip continued to tighten, making Kallus tense up, trying to ignore the numbing pain that started to spread down his arm. 

“A droid is programmed to do its job, but it will never know how to properly hurt a human,” Sinjir explained with a hum, rubbing bruising circles deeper and deeper into Kallus’ skin. “I, on the other hand, have plenty of experience,” he placed a hand on his chest, looking smug, “I know where it hurts-“ 

In one swift motion, Sinjir had knelt down, one hand still on Kallus’ shoulder, the other balled into a fist, jamming itself into Kallus’ solar plexus. 

“I know how to cause pain in ways a droid can’t, and I’m excellent at it.” Sinjir bragged, pulling away and standing back up as Kallus’ reeled in pain, hunched over and gasping for air from the force of the punch.

“It’s torture, really,” the LO shrugged, hands going up to fix his hat as he stood up straight, “There’s no sugar-coating it. But it should mean more coming from a human, shouldn’t it?”

“Is that your first question?” Kallus quipped, wheezing as he raised his head up, hair in his face now as his chest rose and fell with heavy pants. “Are we finally on the interrogation part?”

“Ah, you’re quite witty, aren’t you?” Sinjir hummed, smiling as he brushed Kallus’ hair out of his face with dexterous fingers. “It’s a shame our first meeting had to go like this, I think we would have been good friends.” 

Kallus only glared, yanking his head away from Sinjir’s hand as the other man just simply looked at him with that conceited grin. 

The thought of ever being friends with someone like the man in front of him made Kallus’ stomach churn. On one hand, he was disgusted with the idea, he hated the idea; Kallus would never be friends with someone such as Sinjir. On the other hand, Kallus knew that he had once been friends with many men who were like Sinjir and he knew that in a different universe, Sinjir’s words might be true.

“That’s right,” Sinjir nodded, pulling Kallus out of his thoughts, “you have different friends now, don’t you? Tell me about your rebel friends. All I know about them thus far is that they’re a menace and are now going to pay the price thanks to you trying to play the part of a rebel.” 

The last part hurt like a jab to the chest, but it filled Kallus with guilt rather than pain because for once, Sinjir was right. All Kallus had done was lead the Empire right to the rebels and he had no way to warn them, no way to save them. He had his chance and it slipped through his fingers. Maybe he did deserve this. 

“If you must know,” Kallus growled, eyes narrowed up at Sinjir as the guilt bubbled down to a wave of bitter anger, “these rebels are persistent. They’re clever, relentless, and shouldn’t be underestimated.” 

Sinjir raised an eyebrow, interested. 

“You may think you have them now, but they’ll just find a way to turn the tide in their favor, they’ll escape and live to fight another day,” Kallus attested, though he spoke with false confidence; half of him believed his words to be true and the other half prayed that it would be the case just once more.

“It sounds like you speak from experience, Agent,” Sinjir smiled, clasping his hands in front of him, turning his head to look down on Kallus.

When Kallus didn’t answer and instead glared at him with red-tipped ears, Sinjir laughed, head back, chin up. Kallus knew his silence was telling, but if Sinjir was the man people whispered about in quiet hallway corners or late at night in the bunks, then Sinjir already knew very well about Kallus’ infamous history of failing to catch the rebels. If anything, Kallus would’ve been surprised if he hadn’t; the Empire’s best, outsmarted time and time again by a ragtag band of incompetents. 

“Oh, what’s the phrase?” Sinjir murmured, his laughter dying down as Kallus’ attention was drawn back to the officer. 

Sinjir tapped his chin, taking one, two steps closer to Kallus, looking everywhere but at the man kneeling on the floor. When he finally got it, his eyes lit up, adding a flash of orange in those dark, dark eyes that snapped back to look at Kallus.

“If you can’t beat them, join them,” Sinjir quoted, a smile spreading across his features like a disease, “Wouldn’t you say so?” 

Kallus bit his tongue. 

Again, he did not answer. Instead, he held his gaze, watching as intense eyes bore through him, searching his own hazel eyes for answers that Kallus was keeping deep below the surface. He would not tell Sinjir about Zeb, about his time on Bahryn, about the rock that sat on a shelf in his room; a rock that kept him up nearly every night since his rescue, making him doubt and question everything his life had been up until that point. He would not give in. 

“Hmm,” Sinjir hummed, breaking his gaze away when he saw that Kallus wasn’t going to talk. The silence was often very telling, and this was no exception. Sinjir knew that there was more than just ‘giving up and switching sides,’ but he would ask those questions later. 

So instead, he shrugged off the previous conversation and segued it into a new one. 

“I’m no friend of the Empire,” he started, eyes locked on the patches on Kallus’ chest plate, “my enemies consist of Empire personnel like you,” he nudged Kallus’ knee with his boot, “but I can’t stand the rebels either.”

Sinjir gave a dramatic sigh before pulling away from Kallus to start circling around him again, hands behind his back, chin up in thought.

“They’re annoyingly tenacious and for what ? There’s no organization, there’s no real threat, they just cause trouble for everyone,” Sinjir listed, face twisted in disgust, “All of that for what ?”

“Hope.”

Sinjir stopped, turning his head to look at Kallus, a small smile tugging on his lips; “I beg your pardon?”

“Hope,” Kallus repeated, this time a lot louder and with a lot more confidence than before, “They’re fighting for hope. For a better tomorrow.” 

Sinjir broke out into laughter, a piercing sound that made Kallus’ ears burn red and his heart thump loudly in his chest. 

“Hope? Oh please,” Sinjir wiped a fake tear away, pretending like what Kallus had said was the funniest thing he’d ever heard in his life, “There’s no hope for them. Kriff, there’s barely any hope for any other person in the galaxy!” Sinjir raised his voice, spreading his arms out as if he were motioning to the entire galaxy. 

“Hope,” he scoffed, shaking his head, the sudden laughter gone as soon as it had come, “What a feeble thing.” 

“It’s not such a feeble thing for the ones who believe, for the ones brave and strong enough to believe,” Kallus countered, his voice still full of confidence as he started to get back up again. 

“Cowards like you wouldn’t understand,” Kallus spat, eye to eye with Sinjir now, standing on shaky feet. “Someone without a purpose wouldn’t understand.” 

Everything that followed next happened in the snap of a finger. 

Anger had suddenly overtaken Sinjir, Kallus could feel it in the atmosphere and he could feel it with every blow Sinjir landed on him. With his hands tied, literally, there wasn’t much Kallus could do to fight back and Sinjir’s knowledge of the human body put him at the advantage, leaving Kallus on the floor once again, reeling in pain as bruises started to form all over his body. 

Again and again, though, Kallus attempted to get back up, not wanting to give Sinjir the pleasure of keeping him down. However, something about what Kallus had said seemed to strike a nerve with Sinjir, causing him to unleash an anger Kallus didn’t think he would see. The Loyalty Officer was literally beating him back down, any movement or attempt to stand back up on Kallus’ part resulted in a swift kick or knee to his chest, or a hard jab to his chest or shins, making him sputter and stay down, obedient to the idea that he was lesser. 

Sinjir wasn’t as big as Kallus, he was perhaps the same height, but was considerably lankier than Kallus. Nonetheless, each knee to the chest, each tight grip on his shoulder, forcing him down, was painful. Sinjir knew where to hit, knew where to pinch, he knew how to make Kallus hurt. Sinjir was right. It was worse than the probe droids. 

“I have a purpose,” Sinjir seethed, holding Kallus’ head up by some tufts of hair, “I know my place.”

He let go, thrusting Kallus’ head forward with such force that Kallus fell onto the cold floor, his face crashing up against the cool tile as he groaned in pain. 

“I want to know if you know your place,” Sinjir challenged, standing over Kallus, leaning down just slightly, “Do you think it’s with the rebels? Is that what you believe?”

Kallus turned his head just slightly so that he could look up at Sinjir. Sinjir who was grinning, clearly enjoying himself, his filmy eyes trained on Kallus like he was a meal for a hungry Loth wolf. 

“Tell me, Alexsandr Kallus , do you think that’s where your purpose lies? With the rebels?” A pause, “With the Ghost crew?”

Kallus inhaled sharply, body tensing, eyes dilating, fists clenching. Sinjir’s eyes darted, picking up on every slight motion. 

“Ah yes, I know about the Ghost crew,” Sinjir nodded, hands clasped together in front of him, as he looked down at Kallus, “I know I asked about the rebels earlier, but I wanted to see if you would give in and tell me what I already knew.”

“Why do you care then?” Kallus contested, voice loud yet shaky, “If you already know so much?”

“You were tasked with hunting them down, weren’t you?” Sinjir pressed, ignoring Kallus’ question and straightening his posture before continuing on, “Now you want to join them? If that’s where your purpose lies, I’m afraid to tell you that that purpose will only leave you lying in a grave alongside your fellow rebels.”

Sinjir took a step back, only to squat down and put a hand on Kallus’ face, gripping it harshly, one of his fingertips pushing hard into the space just below Kallus’ earlobe, where jaw and skull met. The pain made Kallus see stars. 

Sinjir tilted his head, eyes locked on Kallus as he squeezed, “Were you ever aware that the Grand Admiral knew that you were the spy after that stunt you pulled with Lyste?”

His voice was deadly quiet, each word pricking into Kallus like a needle. Kallus knew Sinjir was mocking him, teasing him about his failure to keep his role as a spy secret. He wouldn’t play along with Sinjir, no, instead he’d stand his ground, eyes narrowed, determined, mouth sealed shut as he bit into his cheeks to combat the pain Sinjir was inflicting. 

When Kallus didn’t answer, Sinjir’s lips twitched with a smile. He knew that Kallus had no idea his position had been compromised, or else he would have stopped sending messages to the rebels. For a few weeks after that incident, Kallus continued to communicate with the rebels and continued to be Thrawn’s puppet on a string.  

“Well…I’m sure you wondered what happened to Lyste, don’t you?” Sinjir tilted his head the other way, faking a pout before he answered a question Kallus tried not to ask himself after Lyste was taken away. 

“We tortured him,” Sinjir simply said, an answer Kallus was afraid of. 

“We did it to try to get information out about you, but he wouldn’t spill,” Sinjir sighed, “He didn’t know anything, actually, it was quite pathetic the blabbering. You should have heard it.” He brought up his free hand, opening and closing it like a puppet, mimicking a person yakking. 

Kallus glared, glancing between the hand and Sinjir before he managed to hiss out; “Why are you bringing this up?” 

Sinjir’s grip loosened just a bit, enough to make Kallus loosen his jaw just a bit. 

“Just to tease you,” Sinjir clarified with a shrug and a smug smile, “A lot of your ‘Fulcrum’ work was done in vain, maybe you got away with it for a few months or so, but for most of it, Thrawn was letting you play the part of a rebel,” he started to rub circles underneath Kallus’ earlobe with his finger, pressing harshly every time he completed a circle.

“That and Lyste’s blood is now on your hands, but I’m sure you’re already used to that,” Sinjir mused with a wink, his voice no longer a cold, deadly whisper, but instead a whisper filled with amusement and delight. 

Kallus made a face, appalled at Sinjir’s words and the wink that followed; “You killed him?” 

 “Oh no, not me, I’m not a murderer,” Sinjir gasped, putting his free hand on his chest as if he’d been offended by Kallus’ assumption. 

 “A firing squad did.”  

The room went silent. 

Sinjir smiled and let go of Kallus, standing and stepping away from Kallus’ lowered head as the guilt started to settle. Kallus was no stranger to guilt, he’d felt it countless times before but he had hoped that whatever happened to Lyste would be an exception. After all, they weren’t close, but Lyste did look up to him…Kallus told himself not the care because Lyste was Imperial and Imperials were evil, but then he was reminded of Zeb’s words; of not judging a whole group based on the actions of one individual. In addition to that, Lyste had been like Kallus; did he have a choice? If Lyste had the opportunity to change, would he have?

“You want to know what else a human can do that a droid can’t?” Sinjir questioned suddenly, seemingly bored with the silence. Kallus raised his head to narrow his eyes up at the man, but he didn’t reply. 

 “We can threaten in ways droids cannot.” He smiled, clasping his hands together, “A droid can threaten physically, as can a human, but what we humans can do-” he gestured between them, “-is also hurt mentally.” 

He walked over and knelt down next to Kallus once more, grabbing his shoulder and pushing him up so that he was sitting up straight before moving his hand to Kallus’ throat, making the other gasp and squirm, trying to get away. Sinjir was strong though, to Kallus’ slight surprise, and managed to hold him there, his grip slowly tightening as he continued on with his spiel. 

“My favorite thing to do is threaten people’s lovers,” he bragged, “It’s good to know who you’re going to bed with and if there is no one, then friends and family are other options.” 

Kallus gasped, fighting the pain with eyes squeezed shut, nostrils flaring. 

“Emotions…relationships, they’re all a weakness. A weakness I can exploit,” Sinjir muttered, “But thanks to you and your little ‘ Fulcrum ” production, you’ve done my job for me.”

Sinjir finally let go, making Kallus gasp out in relief, before patting Kallus’ cheek and standing back up. 

“You caught the rebels for us,” Sinjir proclaimed, almost in a singsong voice, “You did it! You accomplished your purpose! And thanks to you, I don’t have to threaten rebels to get information out of you.” He looked down and smiled, “You led us right to them and they’re going to suffer, they’re going to die , because of you .” 

That was the final nail in the coffin for Kallus. Blinding, searing hot anger and pain erupted in his chest at those words, overpowering the guilt that he would have felt. Had he been a lesser man, he would have cowered in fear and accepted his mistakes; but that wasn’t Kallus. That wasn’t who he was. 

So, instead, Kallus got up and charged, aiming for Sinjir, wanting to ram him into the wall and headbutt him till that long, thin nose of his was bleeding streams of cherry red. He managed to stand, managed to get a footing, but the sudden movement and the pain clouded his vision and made his legs tremble. He only had enough in him to clumsily charge forward, to which Sinjir simply stepped aside and let Kallus run himself into the wall. 

BAM !

Kallus groaned and slumped across the wall while Sinjir tsked behind him. 

“You ISB Agents are such brutes,” Sinjir remarked, unfazed, a long leg coming up and kicking Kallus in the back before he could turn around and attempt to charge again, “You all have such a pitiful determination to you.”

Holding himself up with the help of the wall, gasping in pain, Kallus realized that he’d done what Sinjir wanted. Somehow, Sinjir knew Kallus wouldn’t break into a coward, he knew that Kallus would break into anger, into fury. With that realization, Kallus didn’t know what to do. Did he give Sinjir the satisfaction of being right and continuing to act out in anger? Or did he surprise Sinjir at the expense of his dignity? He didn’t know how much more he could take of this, but then again, Kallus was persistent.

“You ISB agents are the worst, want to know why?” Sinjir cursed, glaring at Kallus as he rolled up his sleeves. Before Kallus could answer or really comprehend what Sinjir was asking, the Loyalty Officer was already talking. 

“It’s because you think you’re untouchable. The best agents in the galaxy, trained from a young age to blindly follow the Empire and serve, blah blah blah,” he made a face, sticking out his tongue and waving a hand in the air, clearly annoyed with the fact.

 Kallus raised an eyebrow, inhaling sharply as he managed to ask; “Is a Loyalty Officer no different?” 

Sinjir snorted, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. Though there was a flash of uncertainty, his expression was more of one listening to a child blabbering about something they didn’t have a clear concept of. 

“We don’t have an allegiance to anyone or anything, you pitiful man,” Sinjir insulted, “and our training is far more…” There was a pause as if Sinjir was searching for the right word until he finally found it, “… intensive , then yours.” He shook his head as if swatting away bad memories in his mind before he stepped closer to Kallus, tauntingly close to him.

“Oh, but look how ‘untouchable’ you are,” the LO breathed out, running the back of his hand down Kallus’ cheek, Imperial leather rubbing against neatly trimmed mutton chops. “Your title can’t save you now, I’m afraid.” 

Kallus jerked his head back once Sinjir’s fingers rested underneath his chin, lifting his head up as the officer brushed a gloved thumb over Kallus’ lips, smearing blood across his cheek.

Wide-eyed, Kallus inhaled shakily, taking a step back further into the wall to get as far away from Sinjir as possible. Even with the distance though, Sinjir could see the fear in Kallus’ sandy eyes, he could practically taste it. It made him laugh as he stepped away.

“You were the best of us, Kallus!” Sinjir bellowed, walking away from Kallus, “Top of your class, an ISB agent, commander of a fleet. And you threw it all away. Why?"

Kallus spat out blood onto the wall, before turning to meet Sinjir’s gaze, still using the wall to hold himself up, though his legs and voice were shaking. With a sneer, he answered as confidently as he could; "There's more to life than stripping people of their free will, massacring their people, and destroying their homes." 

This seemed to amuse Sinjir even more than Kallus’ previous reaction. The man stepped forward with a lopsided smile, eyes lighting up with a sick joy that made Kallus want to back up further into the wall. 

Now just inches away from Kallus, Sinjir simply responded; "On the contrary, dear Kallus, that IS my life." 

Before Kallus could react, he saw a flash of light and suddenly there was a sharp pain and a wet substance dripping down his forehead. Had Sinjir just cut him? Was that what had just happened? Kallus blinked red out of his unbruised eye. 

"I looked over some files…” Sinjir stepped away, acting as if he had done nothing, leaving Kallus in shock, “Seems that you were missing for a night on the Geonosis moon, Bahryn, and came back in need of mending your bones." He nodded towards Kallus’ leg, a sly smile on his features that made Kallus’ blood run cold, “wouldn’t it be a shame if I just…” he put two fists together and broke them apart, making a snapping sound with his mouth. 

Suddenly fear enveloped Kallus as he wished he’d gotten a probe droid instead of the demon that was Rath Velus. 

“No,” he muttered, shaking his head as he hobbled backward, still needing to lean against the wall. 

Sinjir didn’t hear him, he just stepped closer.

“Answer the question, Kallus,” Sinjir’s voice had gone from a teasing smug taunt to one of deadly cold seriousness. “What made you become a traitor?”

“Why do you want to know?” Kallus demanded, his voice full of fear and anger, “You said it yourself, the rebels are done for! And it’s all my fault! What more could you want from me?”

 “Oop, that doesn’t quite sound like an answer to my question,” Sinjir tsked, shaking his head as Kallus backed himself into one of the corners of the room, “What a shame.” 

“Wait-!“

Crack !

Kallus slumped forward, crying and screaming out in pain as he crumpled onto the floor like a dying Tauntaun. Pain shot up his leg, into his chest, his heart was hammering in his ears, but he could do nothing about it. Sinjir was fast, just a quick kick to his tibialis anterior, and Kallus was down. 

In time, his leg had healed from his adventure on the moon, but he still walked with a slight limp, so the kick was like opening an old wound with a vibroknife.

Over the screaming, completely unfazed, Sinjir continued to question and prod Kallus. 

"Now mind you,” he chastised, voice raised ever so slightly above the screams that were slowly turning into stifled sobs, “before you were stranded on that moon, you were performing splendidly! So what happened, Kallus? What changed your mind? Or more accurately, WHO changed your mind?” 

Kallus wanted nothing more than to strangle Sinjir at that moment. He wanted Sinjir to hurt, to feel all the pain that Kallus was feeling, both physical and emotional. He wanted Sinjir to die slowly, painfully, but Kallus was bound by his hands, his body trembling with quiet sobs, as the pain began to get to the point that it was becoming a tingling, numbing sensation. But Kallus had to fight it. If he couldn’t physically fight Sinjir in his conditions, then this was the least he could do.

“I…already told you,” Kallus boiled, gasping and swallowing back down bile, “you should have used a droid.”

“You stupid little man,” Sinjir insulted, shaking his head, “You really don’t get it, do you? Well, I guess it figures, no one would have suspected you to be the rebel, so why would you ever need integration in your life, you privileged dog?”

Sinjir scoffed, rolling his eyes, “Well, let me explain how this works then, shall I? I ask questions, I might rough you up a little so that you bend to my will, but then you answer my questions, yes?” 

He knelt in front of Kallus, pushing hair out of his face, “Be a good little ISB agent and answer me-“ he grabbed his face by his chin and squeezed, “-what’s the story? Who changed your mind?”

“Go to hell,” Kallus spat, right in Sinjir’s face. 

Strangely, the Loyalty Officer didn’t flinch, he simply just closed his eyes and exhaled through his nose, looking rather vexed than disgusted at the action. Either he had suffered worse or he was used to being spat in the face, either way, it satisfied Kallus enough for the pain he felt all over to subside just slightly. 

Sinjir let go of Kallus to wipe his face, before rubbing his sleeve on the front of Kallus’ shirt, as if that somehow made things any better. 

“That wasn’t the answer I was looking for,” Sinjir started, voice cold and quiet, “but let me ask you something.” He stood up slowly, turning his back towards Kallus as he walked a few steps away from the crumpled man. 

“Do you know anyone by the name Garazeb Orrelios? Former Captain of the Lasat Royal Guard?” 

Kallus’ heart skipped a beat. His eyes widened, he felt the hair rise on his neck and his skin go cold. How did Sinjir know that name? Was it in his files? Why was he asking this?

Questions and confusion ran through Kallus’ mind as wide eyes stayed fixed on a point on the floor, his breaths shaky because any bigger movement sent pain shooting up his leg. What was he to do? How was he supposed to answer?

With a sharp breath, Kallus raised his head; only to be met face to face once again with callous, dark eyes, staring intensely into his soul.

Startled, Kallus wanted to shout in surprise, but no sound came out. Instead, he held the gaze, though his intensity was lacking. He knew his eyes were wide, a hazel ocean of confusion, fear, and pain. He knew Sinjir was picking up on every emotion coursing through Kallus’ veins and every thought running rampant through his slowly breaking mind. He wanted the droid. 

“Your silence is very telling.” That was all Sinjir said before standing once more, placing an all too familiar glowing meteorite in front of Kallus, only further scaring and confusing the ISB agent on the intentions of the Loyalty Officer. 

“It is to my knowledge that the Lasat were wiped out,” Sinjir professed, walking a few paces away from Kallus, letting him take in the fading yellow glow from the rock that barely had enough heat for Kallus to feel it from where he was. 

“I’m sure you’re well aware of the fact, aren’t you, dear Kallus?” Sinjir looked over his shoulder and grinned. 

“Why do you want to know so desperately? Why are you so set on knowing what made me change my terrible ways?” Kallus interrogated, genuine confusion in his tone as his gaze moved from the rock to Sinjir. 

“I’m not interested in it, gods no,” Sinjir answered, shaking his head, “I’m merely asking on the behalf of the Grand Admiral. He would like to know.” Sinjir paused, making Kallus question whether or not Sinjir was telling the truth. Before he could ask, the LO was continuing on with his spiel, 

“Though I think that curiosity killed the loth cat, he believes it might be beneficial to know what the rebels did to turn the Empire’s best ISB agent against them.” He then turned his head towards Kallus, mocking a pout, “Though I wouldn’t call you the best, or else you wouldn’t be here. Would you now?”

Kallus pursed his lips, his gaze on Sinjir’s barely holding before eventually he gave up and went back to staring at the meteorite. He didn’t want to ponder on Sinjir’s words too much and now that the rock was here and Sinjir, who Kallus knew wasn’t on the Star Fighter previous to being caught, knew about Zeb. Kallus wanted some answers. 

“I’ll make you a deal,” Kallus started, drawing in a breath, as he slowly started to sit up, wincing at the pain as he brought his legs around him so that he could sit up straight, back against the wall. 

“That’s not how these things go, but because you’re handsome and I want to hear the deal, you may continue,” Sinjir waved a hand in the air before folding his arms. 

Kallus wasn’t sure how to respond to that reply in particular, but he glared and continued with his proposition once he was better situated into a more or less comfortable sitting position. At least Sinjir hadn’t tried to beat him down again, Kallus was at least a little grateful for that. Just a little. 

“The deal is this: you tell me what you know about the Ghost crew, about Garazeb, and where you got this rock and I’ll tell you what you - what Thrawn - wants to know.” 

Kallus licked his lips nervously, he could taste blood but he ignored it, instead, he glanced up at Sinjir, hopeful that he would take up his proposition. He knew he was in no position to ask for things from the Loyalty Officer, but he needed to know. He needed to know if the Empire knew something about the Ghost Crew, about Zeb, that he didn’t know. He wanted to know what kind of information they had about the rebels, what else did they know that they kept hidden from Kallus? 

If it was anything new, if it wasn’t something Kallus was already aware of and something that could be potentially destructive towards the rebels and the cause, then Kallus needed to know. He needed to have some hope, some reason to try and get himself out of this mess and to the rebels before it was too late. 

In response to Kallus though, Sinjir merely raised an eyebrow, letting the proposition sink in as he began to process it. Kallus was surprised he even got a shot at trying something like this or that Sinjir didn’t just start laughing dismissively at Kallus’ pitiful attempt for civil conversation before going back to torture. 

Though, not long after, Sinjir gave a nod and a smile, “You have a deal.” 

Before Kallus could respond, Sinjir held up a finger and interrupted; “But! You have to say your piece first, as I asked the questions first.”

“How will I know you won’t back out once you get what you want?” Kallus challenged, narrowing his eyes at Sinjir.

“I’m no man of honor,” Sinjir admitted with a shrug, “so you can’t really trust that I won’t back out.” He smiled slyly, but before Kallus could respond, Sinjir held out a hand and continued on, “However, I’m rather bored of all the time I’ve spent with you and would like to send you back to Thrawn to watch as your ridiculous little rebel friends get crushed, so I’ll just go ahead and say my piece. Yes?” 

“Why you-”

“I do research on my subjects before interrogation,” Sinjir began, once again ignoring Kallus, “it’s standard protocol for LOs and it makes my job easier. It’s good to know if there’s a mother to threaten, a lover to execute, or a particular injury to exploit before I start any job,” he motioned to Kallus’ newly broken leg with the nod of his head. 

“Unfortunately, your file had nearly nothing of the sort, as I assumed, since you are an ISB agent and have no such time for things,” he wiggled dismissive fingers in the air, “however, I did happen to come across your accounts of almost, but not quite, captures of the Ghost crew and there was one instance in particular that I found rather interesting.” 

“Some troopers had reported that during a conflict between you and the rebels, you had been unfortunately displaced alongside a Lasat in an escape pod over Geonosis where you and the Lasat had gone missing for a night.” 

Sinjir was now pacing, stepping slowly closer and closer to Kallus, to the meteorite laying in front of him. Everything he was saying though made Kallus hold his breath and his fingers twitch. Hearing that troopers had seen and reported him launching out of an escape pod only further fueled his disappointment and anger towards the Empire. They loved to brag that he was their best and the brightest, but when he was reported missing, it took them that long to find him? Even with the pain that had been inflicted on him due to his allegiance with the rebels, this made him believe that it was worth it. Or would have been, had he not screwed up and led the Empire right to them. 

“Anyways, from there I found information about the Lasat. There aren’t many left, thanks to you, so it wasn’t hard to do,” Sinjir smirked as he watched Kallus wince in guilt and shame.

 “If you want…” Sinjir stopped in front of him, his boot atop the dimly glowing rock, “I’ll ask the Grand Admiral to spare this…Lasat for you and we can bring him on board.” He moved the boot in mocking circles, Kallus’ gaze fixated on it. 

“Then either you can watch as we wipe out the last of the Lasat or…you can finish the job yourself.”  

Kallus’ eyes shot up, first wide in shock before quickly narrowing in an intense glare as he realized what Sinjir was saying, what he was accusing him of. It wasn’t that Kallus didn’t think what Sinjir was saying about Kallus helping in the near extinction of the race wasn’t true, gods knew that Kallus could not, would not, stop blaming himself for the fact after the night on the moon with Zeb, but it was that Sinjir would stoop that low to say something like that. 

“No? Shame,” Sinjir frowned, mocking pity, “he’ll just die like the rest of them then…” “The meteorite, where did you get it?” Kallus demanded, voice raised, though it caused his chest to ache and pain to spark in his leg. He was done talking about Zeb, about his past and what he’d done under the influence of the Empire. 

Sinjir’s smile only made Kallus realize he was slowly giving the LO everything he wanted, but he couldn’t stop, for whatever reason, he kept going, kept asking, kept pushing. Everything hurt like hell and he knew it wouldn’t matter because he would be killed and the rebels destroyed, but he kept on going. Heart of a rebel, call it what you will, Kallus wasn’t finished. 

“This meteorite?” Sinjir asked, raising his foot and looking down at the fading light emitting from the rock, “It was in your room…Hidden, of course, it’s protocol for Empire personnel to not have any sorts of…accessories in their rooms.” He nudged the rock with his boot hard enough so that it rolled towards Kallus and landed right next to him. 

“It must have held some sort of purpose for an ISB agent such as yourself to want to keep it, so I decided it was important and decided to bring it along to our little talk.” Sinjir shifted his gaze from the rock to Kallus, “Does seem to be losing its glow though…” 

Sure enough, the rock wasn’t nearly as bright as it had been when Zeb found it. Kallus figured that it was just happening naturally, like something that slowly happened over time, like paint losing color or metal turning to rust, but on some nights when the light would flicker, on the nights where he heard reports of Empire wins over rebels, he wondered if it was perhaps something else…Something more. 

“Well, now that I’ve said my part, it seems like it’s your turn to do your part,” Sinjir instructed with a nod, acting civilized for the first time since he had stepped into the bright room. 

“How do you know I won’t back out?” Kallus snapped, looking up from the meteorite to Sinjir, deliberately mimicking what Sinjir had said earlier, but also while genuinely considering doing so. 

“Because you’re a man of honor,” Sinjir answered simply.

Kallus froze, first with fear and then stubborn confidence. He narrowed his eyes and shook his head, holding Sinjir’s gaze; “Not for someone like you.”

Sinjir nodded, as if expecting that answer, and strode over, now placing his boot on Kallus’ broken leg like he’d done so earlier with the meteorite. 

“I think you’ve forgotten what ‘someone like me’ is capable of, dear,” his boot had been hovering just slightly over the leg, but now it pushed into the cracked bone, making Kallus hiss out in pain, “should I remind you?”

Kallus knew that it was practically useless to resist. What did it matter anyway? The destroyer was on route to annihilate the rebels and their hard-earned base, all thanks to him and his self-righteousness. He was a dead man as well, there was no way that he was going to make it out of this situation alive. 

On top of that, his one reason to try and escape was gone; the Empire, Sinjir, and Thrawn seemed to know nothing more about the rebels and their supposed rebellion, at least, no more than what Kallus already knew. He was finally out of reasons to try and fight.

It would be better to die here than with the rebels, Kallus thought both selfishly and cowardly. He couldn’t face them, not after everything that he did. It was better off he died here, at the hands of the Empire he once loved. If the pain from Sinjir’s so-called interrogation didn’t send him into shock then he was sure he would die by the order of Thrawn. He only hoped it would be Thrawn that would give the order, rather than someone like Pryce. He did not want to give her that kind of satisfaction.

With a sharp inhale, head tilted back, eyes closed, Kallus finally gave in and opened up.

“I saw that they were good….” He started, chewing on his cheeks to prevent himself from crying out in pain from Sinjir’s foot on his leg, “they were better than the Empire, they had honor.”

He opened his eyes to look at Sinjir as if the last part was specific for him. In response, the Loyalty Officer merely raised an eyebrow, however his foot seemed to pull just slightly away from Kallus’ leg. 

Looking away from Sinjir with a tiny, smug grin, Kallus continued on; “Garazeb made me question my beliefs, question my standings….they…” he swallowed, “the rebels act as a family, they have a greater purpose to serve.” 

Though his voice died out near the end, Kallus firmly believed in everything he said. Years of conditioning and grooming on the Empire’s part were so quickly undone by the simple righteous and kind gesture of the Lasat Kallus so claimed to hate. Everything he so previously held so close to his heart, everything he believed so strongly in his mind, simply shattered the moment he saw Zeb’s friends come back for him, relieved to find him alright. 

Something in Kallus just snapped that night, back on the starship, in his room, holding the glowing, warm rock in his hands. Something clicked right into place and Kallus realized something about himself. Deep down, he figured out his purpose was never to be a part of an Empire, it was to be a part of a family. 

The words seemed to partly resonate with Sinjir, as the man lifted his foot off of Kallus and turned around, hands behind his back, head lowered. Now, instead of Sinjir, Kallus watched with interest and curiosity. Did Sinjir somehow feel the same as Kallus had? Was he beginning to question as well?

That did not seem to be the case, as suddenly Sinjir turned around so quickly, that it made Kallus flinch. There was no profound realization on Sinjir’s features, nothing that told Kallus he might have just won another over to the side of the rebels, no. Instead, there was only that eerily joyful glee in those dark eyes that pierced and burned through Kallus like a lightsaber. 

“Well!” Sinjir exclaimed, clasping his hands together, “I hate to inform you, but that’s an incredibly boring answer,” he feigned a yawn to further prove his point, “shame your body had to go through all of that only for the answer to be one like that…” He mocked a pout, nudging Kallus’ foot with his own. 

Kallus felt anger boil inside him at the response, it steamed up his chest, reddening his ears and powering a pounding heart that rang through his head. Sinjir, though he claimed he was asking for Thrawn, had only been taunting Kallus, only playing with him. For whatever reason, Sinjir was having fun hearing Kallus say all of that out loud. As if physically assaulting Kallus wasn’t enough, Sinjir had to go and molest Kallus’ thoughts and feelings as well.

“You’re lower than scum, Rath Velus,” Kallus fumed, watching as Sinjir walked towards the exit, head held high as he rolled his sleeves back down. 

“I’m just doing my job,” he answered in a hum before looking over his shoulder at Kallus with a wicked grin, “just as you should have done yours.”

Sinjir put a hand on the door keypad before pausing, letting the door slide open before closing once again. He stood in silence for a second or two, before turning back around to face Kallus with the look he wore when he first entered. 

“It really is a shame we couldn’t be friends, Alexsandr,” Sinjir frowned, this time genuinely, rather than mockingly, “I could’ve taken you out for a drink, gods know I’m going to need one after this.” He rubbed at his temples before sighing and shaking his head. 

“Alas, that can’t happen,” the mocking pout returned, “plus, I realize now you would make a terrible friend.” 

“I could say the same for you,” Kallus growled, making a face of disgust at the idea of ever being friends with Sinjir.

“Mmh, yes,” Sinjir nodded, shrugging in agreement, “but what’s going to become of your current friends? The rebels? Aren’t they about to meet their demise thanks to you?” Sinjir’s lips twitched. 

“And your past friends…ISB Agents and Empire personnel who have had several accounts of rebel interactions are going to go through similar ‘interrogations’ such as this, thanks to you and your information.”

Kallus shifted, attempting to get up at this, wanting to break Sinjir’s nose, pull his eyes out of their sockets, bust out his teeth, anything . But the pain kept him down. Again, he was helpless. Helpless and hopeless. 

“Oh but don’t worry,” Sinjir hummed, turning to open the door once more, “you’ll be joining them soon.”

Sinjir stepped through the open door, hands behind his back as he turned to face Kallus, grinning like a serpent; “Goodbye Alexsandr Kallus, I thank you dearly for your cooperation.” He bowed dramatically and the door closed, leaving Kallus alone in the bright room with the fading yellow glow of precious stone. 

Now alone, Kallus finally felt how it felt to be helpless. To be utterly, completely alone with no sense of hope for himself or the rebels. It was crushing, paralyzing; leaving him curled up around the meteorite, his body shaking in fear and quiet sobs of desperation. 

It was a feeling that surpassed the empty loneliness he felt after his night on Bahryn. When Kallus was alone in his room, staring at the meteorite, his leg in a better slit but throbbing in pain, all the same, the loneliness was consuming. 

However, after that suffocating loneliness came a wild determination to do good, to change and start again; standing for something that meant more than the Empire ever did. Something just clicked in Kallus’ head that night, something that told him he was taking the steps towards his true self. 

After that loneliness had come the feeling of hope. Hope for a second chance. Hope for change, for a chance to do something good for once. Hope for a better tomorrow. 

Now, in the bright room, curled around the meteorite, hope did not follow. 

Instead, guilt, fear, and anger overtook Kallus. It crashed into him like waves against rocks, shaking him to his core, numbing the pain, and making him get up on shaky legs to repeatedly smash his good leg into the meteorite, crushing it underneath his foot until it shattered into several pieces, nearly piercing his boot in the process.

Satisfied, Kallus huffed, blowing the strands of hair out his face as he stared down at the pieces crushed underneath him, fading…fading…fading…

At the sight, the anger subsided and guilt settled over him like a sickly atmosphere, surrounding him until he was back on his knees, muttering in disbelief and defiance of what had just happened. 

Once a treasured gift, a reminder of change and hope, destroyed by bitter rage at the actions of a failed Imperial and rebel. 

In a last-minute attempt, Kallus moved his hands behind him, scooping up what pieces he could of the meteorite before tucking them away in his pants pocket. He knew it was an action done in vain, that it wouldn’t matter in the end because he would be dead and the pieces in his pocket would return to being meaningless sediment, but part of him wanted to believe it was an attempt to have some hope. Part of him wanted to believe that this small, pitiful action was Kallus’ attempt to preserve some of the hope that the meteorite had represented. 

Pieces of the meteorite in his pocket, his body numb from emotion and his leg burning in pain; Kallus was left in quiet solitude until the door slid open once again, troopers and Thrawn waiting to retrieve him. 

When they did, the last thing Kallus noticed about the room, as he was being dragged out by troopers, yelling in protest and pain, was the shattered meteorite laying on the floor. Broken by the flurry of anger that no longer resided in Kallus, replaced by cocky, bitter acceptance for what was to come. 

The light was gone and Kallus was ready to accept his fate. 

Chapter Text

There were a lot of things that Kallus liked about Lira San. It was a lot different from the life he had known as a rebel - it was peaceful, quiet, and a breath of fresh air, away from a life that had been so taxing and anxiety-inducing. It was also vastly different from his life prior to being a rebel, of course. It wasn’t a demanding place where superiors were breathing down your neck, where protocol was a strict religion, and where day after day you partook in the enslaving, genocide, and destruction of races and planets. 

No, life on Lira San with the Lasats, with Zeb, was a tranquil place where he could garden, well attempt to, and live carefree of any threats or problems. 

What he liked best about it though, was that he was accepted. Accepted by a race he once thought he helped wipe out years ago with the help of the Empire and their primitive and cruel weapons. A race that Kallus had a hatred for after seeing the actions of a single Lasat carried out on Kallus’ own. A race Kallus never saw himself ever living amongst, let alone ever seeing more of again because of the pain he had caused with his despicable actions. However, remarkably, thankfully , the Lasats and their culture had managed to survive. And what was more than that was that the Lasat had accepted and forgiven him so quickly, just as the rebels had done all those years ago. 

Oftentimes, Kallus would lay awake, staring up at the ceiling with guilt weighing down on his chest at everything he had done and what he had gotten in return for it. He didn’t deserve the second chances he was given, he didn’t think he deserved the forgiveness he was so graciously presented with, but then he would stay up with Zeb on Holo calls with Hera and her son or the neighbors would invite him and Zeb over for dinner and Kallus would be filled with the warm feeling of acceptance, of gratitude for the people who welcomed him into their lives. Maybe he didn’t deserve it fully, but kriff did Kallus love being a part of something new, of something much better than what he’d been a part of before. 

Lira San was home . 

Though it took time to learn and accept that, Kallus now saw it no other way. 

So, it was beyond him as to why he and Zeb were in Coruscant at the moment, wandering around the Federal District, two days into a so-called ‘vacation’ that was very far away from home. 

“Oh, this is awful,” Kallus grumbled, head in his hand as he trailed behind Zeb, as the two of them strolled down one of the many streets of Coruscant’s Federal District. According to Zeb, they were sightseeing, but Kallus thought that the word “torture” best suited the situation instead. 

“C’mon, ’s not that bad,” Zeb insisted, looking over his shoulder at Kallus with an amused grin. 

Since their arrival, Zeb had found it very amusing how different Kallus was in an environment such as this. He figured that those few years on Lira San after the five brutal years of the resistance would change someone, but he would have never guessed that it would’ve changed Kallus so much that he was now cowering behind Zeb like a shadow in large crowds, hand over his face as if he were hiding from some unknown threat. 

“It is, actually,” Kallus hissed in protest, picking up his pace so that he was now walking alongside Zeb, “There’s so many…people just out and about.” he made a face of disgust before shaking his head in disapproval as if he expected the people who were out to have better things to do; preferably inside somewhere away from him. 

“Why did we have to come again?” Kallus asked, wiping down the front of his jacket, though it didn’t need tending to. “There was no reason for us to be here,” He murmured, “I don’t know why I even agreed to bring you here.” 

“Hey, ’s only fair,” Zeb objected, glancing down at Kallus, “I brought you to my home planet, ’s about time you brought me to yours.”

“In time, Lira San has become my home planet too,” Kallus reminded, moving closer to Zeb as he avoided running into a tall Duros, “This one hardly means anything to me anymore.” 

Kallus’ eyes darted around him, over the heads of the several different aliens that were moving up and down the District’s gray pathways, up towards the various looming buildings that were starting to reflect the soon-to-be setting sun, and further still to the zooming speeders that darted in all directions like speeding bugs.

Everywhere Kallus looked, he could only use one word to describe everything; busy. 

Even as the night started to stretch and yawn awake, Coruscant was alive with activity. From the streets to the sky, there was always something happening, always something to look out for; it was vastly different from the peaceful cities of Lira San. Kallus despised it. 

“Oh, besides,” Kallus mumbled, bringing his gaze back down to the walkway ahead of him, “It wasn’t like I grew up here.” He motioned around him, “I spent more time in the academy than I did on this planet.”

Zeb huffed, “Well then, I suppose you could show me around the academy then. Oh, wait!” He stopped in his tracks, people walking around him while Kallus groaned and listened to Zeb go on, mockingly; “That’s right! There’s no more Empire, so there’s no more academies!” 

“You are insufferable, Zeb,” Kallus muttered, shaking his head, though he knew that he had brought it upon himself. 

“Speak for yourself,” Zeb chuckled, nudging Kallus’ shoulder as he continued on his way, leaving Kallus behind in his hunched-over, long strides, “I’m not the one complainin’ about all of this.”

“Because you see this as a vacation!” Kallus pointed out, hurrying to catch up to Zeb, “I think vacation on Lira San would’ve been more than enough.”

“You need to get out more,” Zeb commented, looking down and over at Kallus with an amused grin, “Besides, let me remind you,” Zeb continued on while grabbing Kallus’ shoulder and moving him out of the way before he could trip over an astromech, “you willingly came along, so you best shut your mouth and quit complaining.”

Kallus smacked Zeb’s hand off his shoulder, making Zeb gasp, offended, “I did not come here willingly , I did protest-”

“Once.”

“It still was a protest!” Kallus stammered, waving a hand around the air, “It was not willing!”

Zeb rolled his eyes, irritation present despite the amused grin. It was a common look for Zeb, but that was what he got for hanging around the people he so often did so much. 

“Yeah, yeah, well there’s nothing we can do about it now,” Zeb scoffed, “besides, I wouldn’t call ‘hiding the suitcases’ much of a protest.”

“It was the beginning of a rebellion,” Kallus muttered, though he was grinning slightly, amused at his little joke.

“You call that a rebellion?” Zeb laughed, shaking his head, “You’re a riot.” He punched Kallus in the shoulder, not hard enough to hurt but enough to make the man stumble forward slightly. Even after all these years with Zeb and Kallus still couldn’t seem to ever see Zeb’s playful punches coming. 

“It’s a good thing you joined the rebellion a little later if that’s how you plan things,” Zeb teased, “I mean, it was a decent enough attempt but-“ he shrugged, “it was in vain.”

Before Kallus could protest, Zeb already had an arm around his shoulder, pulling him along; “Now, are you going to show me around the District, or what?” 

Kallus sighed, letting his shoulders slump as Zeb guided him around with that grin Kallus couldn’t escape. A lopsided smile, accompanied by twitching ears, an eager light in those big, green eyes, how could Kallus say no?

“Alright,” Kallus muttered, “You won, this round-“ he pointed, enunciating ‘this round,’ to let Zeb know that this wasn’t over yet. In the end, he would get his way and they would go back to the hotel room and stay there for the duration of their time before the next available transport back on the journey to Lira San. 

“I’ll indulge you if that’s what you want,” Kallus decided, straightening his posture just slightly as he cleared his throat, “Give you a grand ol’ tour of my old home.” He turned to Zeb again, reminding him; “I haven’t been here in years, so if things are different and I’ve forgotten about things, you can’t blame me.” 

“Wasn’t going to,” Zeb lied.

“A lot has changed Zeb,” Kallus warned.

“Thanks to us,” Zeb added, giving Kallus a genuine, proud smile as he put a hand on Kallus’ shoulder, “Quit lookin’ like ‘s a bad thing.” 

Kallus relaxed, shoulders slumping; no matter how many times Zeb or others would compliment him, thank him, for what he did, for who he became, Kallus always got a little flustered over the fact. On some days he would take it with humble gratitude, on other days it would boil in his chest, seasoned with guilt, and on rare days he would redirect their compliments to Zeb (he always did this when Zeb wasn’t around), as he was the one who showed him the light. But since Zeb was here and Kallus was already bitterly upset about being back on Coruscant, he opted for the first reaction.

He put a hand on Zeb’s, squeezing it as he smiled and nodded, acknowledging that Zeb was right. Things had changed for the better, both for him and the entire galaxy, and it was thanks to them, to the rebels. A purpose, a family Kallus was proud to be a part of. 

“You’re right,” Kallus sighed, letting his hand linger atop Zeb’s, “It is a good thing…” 

Now it was Zeb’s turn to squeeze Kallus’ hand before pulling it away, making Kallus frown just slightly. Ironically, he found himself to be quite touchy when it came to Zeb, but unfortunately, the Lasat only seemed to show any sort of physical affection with rough actions. Hand holding wasn’t something Zeb really did and Kallus respected it, though oftentimes he longed for something soft as hand holding. He would never say it aloud, no, but it was a very necessary need. 

“Right, well-“ Zeb cleared his throat, pulling away from Kallus’ staring, “We better keep movin’” He motioned to the crowd that moved around the two of them, avoiding them like they were water, and Kallus and Zeb were oil. 

While Kallus’ appreciated none of them interrupting them by running into him or Zeb, pink flushed his ears in embarrassment over having stopped in the middle of the walkway to have a conversation with Zeb. 

“Of course, of course,” Kallus nodded, coughing awkwardly as he wiped his hand down the front of his jacket, “Where shall we head to first?”

“You lead the way,” Zeb instructed, holding a hand out, “Just this once.”

“Hilarious,” Kallus chuckled drily, rolling his eyes at Zeb’s jab, though he couldn’t fight the smile that broke out in response to Zeb’s own goofy, satisfied look at his comment. 

Kallus pressed on though, walking down the District with a bit more confidence to him, though he still did his best to avoid any type of interaction with anyone around him, aside from Zeb. He wasn’t quite sure where he would go first, what he would show Zeb as it had been quite some time since he’d been on Coruscant. Nonetheless, Kallus kept walking with Zeb following alongside him, hands occasionally brushing against each other, but doing nothing more. 

There weren't many places that Kallus could think to bring Zeb to (though he knew which places to avoid, such as the Verity District, though he was sure it wasn’t the same as he remembered it). Despite Coruscant being his home planet and where he grew up, he had never really done any “sight-seeing” around the cities. He frankly never had the time when he was enrolled in the Academy and when he was younger, well, let’s just say he didn’t have the resources to get around to it. 

In some ways, he was almost like Zeb, something of a tourist, out of place and out of touch with everything around him. Only, Zeb walked in awe of everything, eyes bright, mouth open, much like a gawking tourist while Kallus trailed behind, hiding behind a strained smile and a raised hand. Hiding from bad memories, from his childhood, from his time at the Academy, from just about anything and everything about his birth planet, yet Zeb looked in wonder at everything, oblivious. 

At every little holo-ad, at all the little stores selling souvenirs, at the towering buildings and the racing speeders, everything seemed to get amazement out of Zeb. The concept of a taxi seemed to excite him, at Monument Plaza he had stared up at the pillars with a confident, “ I could scale that, ” and when Kallus mentioned the Opera House, Zeb had laughed in delight over the concept of the Opera. 

With every interaction and little stop they made around Coruscant, slowly but surely Kallus started to come out of his shell. Slowly he started to see his birth planet through new eyes; eyes that had changed, that had seen unimaginable evils and impossible feats, eyes that were being guided by the childlike amazement of Garazeb Orellios who’d never once been to an Inner Rim planet like Coruscant. 

Garazeb Orellios who didn’t know about the lower levels, about what things were like at the Academy, about how ignorance was bliss for many inner rim residents, or about how corrupt the Senate was. Garazeb Orellios who only saw the good in every little thing, holding it up in wonder, amazement, and admiration. 

Meanwhile, Kallus only saw the horrible, terrible, slimy, and corrupt streets riddled with filth and awful memories that plagued the part of his past he wished to ignore and forget. Or at least, that’s what he saw when they arrived, before he witnessed Zeb’s veneration for everything. 

Suddenly, Kallus realized something. Something that was ironic as it was amusing to him and Kallus couldn’t help but bite down a smile and a disappointed chuckle at the realization: He was like Coruscant. Or at least, he once was like it. 

A slimy, horrible, corrupt shell of a man until Garazeb came along. 

Though Zeb hadn’t quite seen the good in him at first or really point it out, the interactions had been enough to make Kallus realize that he could be good . Just as he was realizing now that maybe Coruscant wasn’t all that bad. 

Post-Empire, free from tyranny, on the road to a better future for the galaxy, walking around the bright streets alongside someone he loved and someone who loved him the same, yes, maybe things were different. Yes, maybe Kallus could see Coruscant differently. 

His past with Coruscant was still there, it still hurt, but it was precisely that; the past. Kallus was now on a different path and his future looked brighter than it ever had been. Now he had a purpose, he had a family and friends who loved and cared for him, he had freedom and he was finally free of trying to be someone he wasn’t. 

Now in a better mood, than he had been at the start, Kallus was able to have a little more fun with Zeb and the places they visited. He couldn’t help but grin at Zeb’s remarks, at his imitations of a tour guide whenever Kallus didn’t know the answer about something dealing with the planet and its destination spots, or he couldn’t help but give Zeb false information about things just to see his reaction. Things were just different when they were spent with Zeb and that was a good thing. 

“How do you feel about visiting the Senate Building?” Kallus asked, glancing over at Zeb as they just finished looking at the ports, watching all the ships and transports come and go. “It’s probably the one thing from my past that still stands.” 

“Eh, sure-“ Zeb shrugged, “Don’t see why not. Sure we can go in there though?” He looked over at Kallus, raising an eyebrow. 

“We don’t have to,” Kallus informed, “we could look at it from the outside, I think the architect is worth it. However, they do allow citizens in from time to time, I’m sure it’ll be no trouble if you want to go in.” 

“I’m sure the politics are interesting enough,” Zeb half-heartedly commented, scratching at his beard, “but since I hear so much about this Senate, I say we go. Besides, we might run into a friend or two.”

Kallus nodded, knowing that Zeb was talking about old friends from the Rebellion; specifically Mon Mothma and General slash Princess Organa. While he wasn’t sure if they were indeed present at the building, or if the Senate was even holding any meetings as it was rather late and all of them seemed busy with the aftermath of the battle on Jakku, Kallus figured they might as well go.

“Well, then it’s decided,” Kallus announced, “I could stop at a few places along the way; just mere small stops that are worth noting, nothing too grand-“ he waved a hand in the air, “-and if we’re allowed into the Senate building, I can take you up so that you can look over the city.” 

“Sounds good to me,” Zeb nodded, grinning at Kallus in such a way that made the other huff and look away, ears pink, “‘s long as we don’t head back to that hotel anytime soon.” 

“What’s so wrong with the hotel room?” Kallus asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Zeb shrugged; “Stuffy.” 

He then stretched, arms out, inhaling deeply before he slowly lowered his hands, exhaling as he did so; one large arm finding itself precariously placed around Kallus’ shoulders. 

“It’s much better out here,” Zeb added, giving Kallus a wink and a lopsided grin.

Kallus had tensed, but only for a second. He returned Zeb’s grin, with one of his own, smug and admiring, as he nodded slowly,

“Ah yes, ‘stuffy,’ so reasonably we come out here to breathe polluted air while wrapped around each other.” 

Zeb scoffed, shaking his head and rolling his eyes at Kallus’ sarcasm. Two could play at this little game Kallus seemed insistent on playing.

“You know we can get a lot more ‘wrapped up around each other,’ than this right?” Zeb teased, pulling Kallus closer to him as the two rounded a corner, “Or do you need a reminder?”

Kallus rolled his eyes at Zeb’s cheeky grin, yet he couldn’t quite suppress his blush or his small smile. 

“Oh dear,” he started, feigning innocence, “you might need to. Seems I forgot.” He tapped on his head and shrugged. 

“Right,” Zeb chuckled, nodding. He gave it a thought, glancing away from Kallus for a second before turning back to him, smiling; “Later, after you show me around.”

Kallus stopped right in his tracks, his boots scraping only slightly at the sudden stop and at Zeb yanking him slightly along before also being stopped from Kallus pause. 

In confusion, Zeb turned to look at Kallus, who was holding his hands up and stepping away from Zeb, backing into a corner between a set of stairs climbing up over the shopping district that sliced through the middle of the platform that made up the Federal District. 

“What?” Zeb questioned, tilting his head in both confusion and concern. 

“It’s going to cost you,” Kallus answered, folding his arms with a smirk, “If you want to go any further.”

“Sasha,” Zeb groaned, dropping his arms and walking towards him as people made their way around him, giving the both of them not so much as a glance as they hurried on to their destinations. 

“I’m serious, Garazeb,” Kallus insisted, turning his nose up, looking away from Zeb as a sneaky smile grazed his features. 

“Mmm, right,” Zeb muttered, stopping in front of Kallus, arms folded, “you gonna be like this the rest of the way to the Senate building?” 

“Possibly,” Kallus shrugged, still refusing to look at Zeb. 

“I could just toss you over my shoulder, y’know-“ Zeb pointed out, holding his arms out like he was going to grab Kallus around his waist and hoist him up and over his shoulders.

“Don’t you dare,” Kallus warned, finally looking at Zeb who only grinned triumphantly in return. 

“You ain’t givin’ me much of a choice, honey,” Zeb commented, hands still held out. 

Figuring that he would rather not be paraded around Coruscant over Zeb’s shoulder, Kallus gave in and huffed, throwing his hands up with a; “Fine!”

As much as he enjoyed toying with Zeb and being something of an irritation to the Lasat (an admirable one, of course) he also liked having a bit of his dignity, so he decided to just put an end to his little spiel. 

“That’s what I thought,” Zeb nodded, dropping his arms. 

Before Kallus could reply with a snark, his face was suddenly being cupped with a warm hand, which was followed by a gentle kiss pressed to his forehead. He barely had time to react to the gesture from Zeb because once he came to, Zeb was already walking away, motioning him to follow; “Sights ain’t gonna see themselves!” 

Kallus stood for a few seconds, mouth open slightly, heart beating in his ears before he finally shook his head, a fond smile on his now dusty pink features as he hurried to catch up to Zeb. 

“You have your moments,” Kallus breathed out once he caught up to Zeb, “they’re few, but you have them.” 

“And you’re a pain,” Zeb responded, snickering slightly at his own comment, “but I can’t resist ya, so-“

“Oh, really?” Kallus questioned, raising an eyebrow like he didn’t already know the answer. 

Sure, like in situations they were just in, usually Zeb abused his inhuman size and strength to his advantage whenever Kallus felt especially stubborn or just felt like messing with Zeb. However, more often than not, Zeb would cave in and do whatever Kallus was asking for. 

Kallus found it as amusing as he found it sweet; for he had also noticed how Zeb was like that with the others on the Ghost Crew. He would complain and insist that he wouldn’t do what they asked of him but in the end? He’d always comply. 

“Maybe I take that back,” Zeb corrected, avoiding Kallus’ gaze.

“No, I already know the answer,” Kallus countered, shaking his head, “There’s no use in lying.” 

“Ah, karabast,” Zeb muttered, rubbing the back of his head and getting a laugh out of Kallus in return. A laugh as sweet and fulfilling as honey; Zeb couldn’t get enough. 

“Well, seeing as you did go through with your payment, I suppose I can take you to the Senate Building now,” Kallus reckoned. He held up a hand, squinting at the glare of the setting sun across the glass panels of the surrounding buildings. 

In time, the sky would turn orange and then navy, signaling the approach of night and the life that followed it on a planet such as Coruscant. If they were to make it to the Senate Building, they had to hurry, especially now that Kallus had realized that seeing the sunset at one of the open balconies on the building would be quite the sight. Cheesy, maybe, but watching the sunset with Zeb would remind him of home. 

“Is it far from here?” Zeb asked, following Kallus’ gaze and getting an eyeful of the sun’s glare in return.

“Not really,” Kallus answered, stifling a laugh from Zeb’s cursing as he rubbed his eyes free of the glare, “we could take a taxi and get there rather quickly.” 

He lowered his hand, taking Zeb’s hand into his own as he led the blinking Lasat through a dwindling crowd towards the nearest taxi stop. It was a nice excuse to hold Zeb’s hand, but the best part of it was that when Zeb’s eyesight finally went back to normal, Zeb didn’t let go. 

The trip to the Senate building only took slightly longer than Kallus expected it to. He had forgotten how dangerous and crowded the airspace was on Coruscant; busy and unorganized, but the slightly longer flight gave him some time to think, for his mind and eyes to wander around to the distant memory of a planet around him.

It had been years since he’d last set foot on Coruscant, decades even. Once he graduated from the Imperial Security Bureau academy, he hadn’t returned. There was no real reason for him to return, so he didn’t. Instead, he did his tasks, served the Empire, had a change of heart, joined the rebellion, fought in the rebellion, liberated the galaxy from the oppressive grip of the Empire, and found a new home; there was no reason to return to this one. 

However, despite the years, despite all of the time he’d been away, Coruscant seemed the same as ever, even with Kallus’ new realization that it was different now that the Empire was gone.

 It was just as busy and uptight as he had remembered it; with the sound of speeders overhead, the towering building shinier than an Imp’s polished shoes, and the various people out and about in the streets, oblivious to the ones who suffered below on the lower levels. 

Lower levels that Kallus knew well. Lower levels where Kallus had dwelled, had struggled to survive, where Kallus had been conditioned into someone thirsty to climb the social ladder towards power and control over a life Kallus viewed had little to no meaning. Lower levels that Kallus knew deep down, were his real, original home. 

“You alright?” Zeb’s concerned voice pulled Kallus’ eyes away from the edge of the speeder down to the levels below them. 

Kallus nodded, squeezing Zeb’s hand in reassurance, “Fine…just reminiscing.”

Zeb gave Kallus an understanding look; “Has it changed that much?”

At first, Kallus wasn’t quite sure how to answer. He had told Zeb that things had changed, that things were different so Zeb couldn’t blame him for anything Kallus got wrong about the planet, its places, and its people. On top of that, Kallus had only been familiar with the lower levels and the area around the ISB Academy. He never really had the opportunity to explore anywhere else further than just those two areas of Coruscant. Everything else that he knew about the planet was just through stories told by others who had the chance to see more than Kallus could. So could Kallus really say that things had changed?

Deep down though, Kallus didn’t really think that things had changed. From what he’d known and experienced from growing up and training on Coruscant, everything seemed to be the same as it used to be all those years ago. It was still very much the planet that was plastered on posters and postcards that advertised the beauty and magnificence of the Inner planets.

However, there was that sense of peace now that seemed to surround the planet and its people, despite the hustle and bustle. It was an odd sense of security Kallus hadn’t felt since before the rise of the Empire and the fall of the Republic. A peace that Kallus couldn’t help but feel proud that he helped install. He only hoped that it would stay. 

Finally, with a sigh, Kallus answered; “No…But the things that are different have been for the better.” 

He smiled at Zeb, reassuring him that things were alright and for once, Kallus wasn’t lying to himself. With the new feeling of peace, Kallus could relax and try to appreciate Coruscant differently. Sure, most, if not all, of his memories of the planet were mostly negative, traumatizing memories he wanted to forget, but things were different now. He was no longer some street rat, running around the lower levels trying to scrape by and prove himself to be worthy enough to be alive, and he was no longer some hardened Agent, groomed and manipulated into a cruel shell of a man with no real purpose. 

No, now he had a purpose, now he had a reason to be alive, a reason to believe that he might deserve to see the light in the morning again and again until his eyes tired of opening. It was a new, strange feeling, but it was a good kind of feeling, and Zeb could see that. 

“Good,” Zeb nodded, seeming both relieved and happy over the fact that Kallus finally seemed to be at peace over being back on Coruscant. He would’ve never made him stay if Kallus didn’t want to; had Kallus wanted to leave that night, Zeb would’ve let him. However, seeing Kallus physically relax, no longer tense or on alert, made Zeb grateful that he insisted they stay a little bit longer. It seemed like old wounds were starting to finally heal. 

“Oh, look,” Kallus suddenly said, patting Kallus’ shoulder and pointing past him, “there’s part of the building.” 

Zeb turned, glancing over his shoulder just in time to catch a glimpse of the Senate building; a flash of pure white before it was suddenly covered up again by buildings as the taxi began to turn. 

With a frown, Zeb turned back to Kallus; “I missed it.”

Another honey sweet laugh from Kallus. 

“We’re going to see it soon, just wait,” Kallus assured as the taxi began to pull up to its stop, “quit looking all upset.” He gave Zeb’s cheek a pat as the taxi parked and the driver droid announced their arrival. 

As soon as the taxi was no longer in motion, the two of them thanked the droid and stepped out of the speeder and onto the gray platform to the side of them. At this point, Zeb had let go of Kallus’ hand (which Kallus didn’t mind all that much, after all, he’d been surprised at how long Zeb managed to hold his hand) and was currently stretching as Kallus paid the droid the right amount of credits for the drive. 

“Have fun!” The droid chirped, waving as the two walked away, waving back at the droid in return. 

“Still not used to ridin’ around in something like that,” Zeb commented, turning away from the droid and the taxi, “they should make their taxis a little bigger don’t ya think?” He pressed a hand to his lower back and stretched. 

“I don’t think they’re used to Lasats,” Kallus pointed out, “but I agree with you. They normally don’t drive for long or for very far so they don’t have to be as accommodating as a shuttle transport.” 

“Eh, at least ‘s not as crowded as one of ‘em transports,” Zeb muttered, dropping his hand from his back and continuing on with his usual hunch as he walked.

“So where to now?” He asked, looking over at Kallus, “‘s building’s not far from here, is it…?” Zeb winced slightly as if he was afraid of the answer. 

It took Kallus a moment, as he had to pull out old memories and stories about the building to determine whether or not it was a bit of a walk to the Senate from where they were because he wasn’t too sure about their current location. Luckily, though, his eye caught a glowing sign on one of the display holograms set up around the streets of Coruscant to help out tourists find their way and he was able to quickly remember just how to get to the building from the taxi spot. 

“No, it’s not much of a walk,” Kallus assured, nodding his head towards the direction in which the map had the Senate building marked, “it’s practically around the corner.” 

“I hope you’re right,” Zeb muttered, cracking his neck as he followed after Kallus, his eyes wandering around to his surroundings occasionally before he was eventually led back to Kallus. 

Part of Zeb was jealous, secretly, that Kallus grew up in such a wonderful place. He knew parts of it were traumatizing, he could imagine that the time at the ISB Academy wasn’t something filled with happy memories, but what he was jealous of was Kallus growing up on an Inner Planet. 

Lasan had been very different from Coruscant, it didn’t have the busy skies or the tall buildings, it didn’t have the different districts and holograms at every turn. It wasn’t something that Zeb was used to, and oddly enough, it seemed to be something Kallus wasn’t used to as well. Zeb didn’t know much about Kallus’ past before becoming Fulcrum, he just knew the bits and pieces about it that Kallus was willing to share. And as far as his birth planet or his early years went, Zeb only knew he was from Coruscant, and that was that.  

Part of Zeb thought it would have been nice to live here, in a life of luxury, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of city life, but at the same time, Zeb could understand why Kallus would choose Lira San over this life. Zeb would have done it too. 

“What did I tell you?” Kallus smiled, spreading his arms out as they approached the pristine white sculpted into a building of power and might that towered over them, its shadow slowly fading as the sun continued to set over the building tops. 

“I give you, the Senate Building,” Kallus dipped as if some sort of presenter on a holonet game show, a wide smile on his face as he did so, earning a chuckle out of Zeb.

“Well, it’s certainly a lot bigger in person,” he admitted, tilting his head back just to get a better look at it.

Zeb had only seen pictures of this building, in fuzzy, blue holograms shown by Senators Mon Mothma or Bail Organa in the earlier days of the rebellion. In the past, Zeb didn’t think much of it, to him it was just some building on a fancy, inner planet that couldn’t keep its promises. He didn’t think that a few years in the future he might find himself standing in front of the building, let alone on Coruscant. Still, it was magnificent either way.

“It feels a lot better to look at it now, knowing it’s in better hands,” Kallus spoke aloud as he made his way towards one of the several entrances into the building, “The New Republic might not get much done, but it’s a lot better than the Empire.”

Kallus exhaled, nodding his head; “Yeah…I’ll give ‘em that.”

“Their heart’s in the right place but…” Kallus trailed off, shaking his head slowly.

Zeb looked over and grinned slightly, “Do you think you’d make a good Senator?”

“Me?” Kallus scoffed, motioning to himself in disbelief. He waited a good minute or so, thinking about his answer before shrugging softly and holding his head up a little higher than he had before.

“I’d like to think so, yes,” he answered, “but-“

“You’d hate it,” Zeb finished with a nod. 

Kallus blinked, mouth still open as he looked at Zeb until it slowly changed into a fond smile. Zeb was exactly right.

“I can’t imagine you as a Senator,” Zeb admitted, glancing over at Kallus, “If you were, I think you’d do well, ‘s just, you’d hate it. Being inside all the time, having all that pressure on ya, talking to all those other idiots-“

“Hold on,” Kallus held up a hand, “I was with you until the last part. Are you insinuating that I am also an idiot in that scenario?” 

Zeb grinned, “Well, yeah.” 

“Well then, you’re right on all accounts except that last one,” Kallus muttered, shaking a finger at Zeb, “I’d much rather be a farmer than a Senator.” 

Before Kallus could elaborate, Zeb burst out into laughter, holding his sides, his head tilted back. 

“Y’know what’s funny?” He asked, shoulders shaking as he talked in between laughs.

Kallus raised an eyebrow, confused yet not amused at Zeb’s sudden burst of laughter; “What’s so funny?”

Zeb wiped a tear from his eye, “You’d hate being a Senator, but you’d be good at it. But you love being a farmer even though you’re terrible at it.” 

He burst into another fit of laughter, Kallus’ failure to really grow anything despite claiming to be a farmer always seemed to get a laugh out of Zeb and an eye roll from Kallus. It really wasn’t Kallus’ fault that he wasn’t used to farming, but he enjoyed it anyhow. It was beyond Kallus as to why Zeb found it so ridiculously amusing, though it was always nice to hear Zeb laugh.

“Yes, yes, I get it,” Kallus nodded, rolling his eyes fondly at Zeb’s laughter, “I’m a terrible farmer, hilarious…Honestly, you need new material to laugh at, Garazeb.”

“No thanks,” Zeb chuckled, laughter finally dying down, “this one’s good enough.” 

He reached out, patting Kallus on the shoulder as if he were saying Kallus was entertaining enough on top of saying that Kallus’ failures as a farmer were forever going to be hilarious to Zeb. 

“If you insist,” Kallus sighed, shaking his head, “I’ll be the one laughing though when I finally manage to grow a meiloorun and you no longer can laugh at my struggles.”

“Sure, sure,” Zeb goaded, holding his hands up, “That’ll be some day.”

“It’ll be someday indeed,” Kallus nodded with a confident smile.

At this point, they’d reached one of the entrances to the Senate Building; a large rectangular opening in the side that was guarded by several officers who each tensed when Zeb and Kallus approached. 

“State your business,” one of the guards commanded, a Pantorian, as he stepped forward, making Kallus and Zeb both stop in front of the entrance. Zeb gave Kallus a look, one that read “you-handle-this,” and with a sigh, Kallus did. 

“I’m Alexsandr Kallus,” Kallus introduced, motioning to himself, “this is my partner, Garazeb Orrelios,” he took a small step to the side and motioned to Zeb who just puffed out his chest and nodded in acknowledgment. 

“We’re on a vacation of sorts and were doing a bit of sightseeing,” Kallus explained, cringing inwardly since he had to admit that they were in fact sightseeing and it wasn’t torture like he previously thought it was, “So we wanted to see if maybe we could take a look inside the Senate Building?”

The guard looked between the two of them, his blue features tense but slowly it started to unravel as he started to put pieces together in his head. 

“Kallus and Orrelios?” He repeated, motioning to the two of them, “From the Rebellion?”

Kallus raised an eyebrow and glanced back at Zeb who asked; “You know us?”

“Well, not personally-“ the guard stammered, suddenly nervous, “but I know of you! You’re both practically founders of the Rebellion, no?”

Kallus and Zeb both looked at each other before looking back at the guard.

“You could say that,” Kallus answered with a shrug, “Though I wouldn’t give us that much credit.” 

“Yeaaah,” Zeb nodded slowly, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, “we definitely helped though, but there were others who started the whole thing, y’know?”

“Still, you did a great service to the galaxy,” the guard countered, his fellow guard nodding in response. 

“Oh…well, thank you,” Kallus smiled softly, feeling rather touched by the simple statement. He was never one to take compliments very easily, but ones that came from strangers that were simple and genuine meant a lot to him. Each of them was a reminder to Kallus that he’d done the right thing all those years ago, that his purpose truly did lie with the Rebels. 

“You mentioned you were visiting?” The other guard, a Tholothian, brought up, tilting their head with a frown. 

“Yes,” Kallus nodded, a bit hesitant due to the Tholothian’s confused look, “I thought to bring Zeb to my home planet and show him around since he’s never been to Coruscant.”

“Technically it was my idea,” Zeb huffed, folding his arms, “plus you didn’t even want to come in the first place.”

Kallus ignored Zeb, taking a step closer to the Tholothian, “Why do you ask?”

The guard stood up straight, eyes wide, grip on the spear they were holding tightening; “Oh! It’s just, I thought that perhaps you were here on New Republic business since they’re holding a pretty big celebration in a few days!”

Zeb glanced over at Kallus; “Celebration?”

The Tholothian nodded. “It’s the one-year anniversary of the Battle on Jakku,” they explained, “Chancellor Mothma organized a big event and everything, so I just assumed that you both were here for it as well.”

“Oh,” Kallus frowned, “I had no idea…”

Since he and Zeb were in the Unknown Regions of Wild Space, they rarely got any kind of news from the outside worlds. That was one of the other reasons why Kallus loved Lira San so much because he wasn’t occupied with what was happening outside of their home planet. Sure at times, they would get major news, such as the final stand with the Empire on the junk planet Jakku, but they hardly got anything less than new like that. Even so, Kallus had no idea that it had already been a year since the New Republic finally got rid of the last remaining bits of the Empire back on that desert planet. 

“Yeah, we aren’t too involved in politics,” Zeb admitted, making a face, “‘s not really our strong suit so we try to stay away from it.”

Kallus nodded in agreement, breaking away from his thoughts; “Yes, us being here is purely a coincidence.” 

“Oh well,” the guard frowned, shrugging, “then, I guess, if it’s you guys, you’re welcome to enter the building. It shouldn’t be a problem.” 

They stepped back, allowing the two inside with grateful smiles. Though, Kallus and Zeb were a bit hesitant to enter; afraid they were somehow overstepping now that they knew some big thing was planned for the anniversary of the final stand between the rebels and the Empire, but they thanked the guards and went on their way anyway, with Kallus leading just a few steps in front of Zeb. 

“Did you know about the…anniversary thing-y?” Zeb asked Kallus, once they were a ways away from the entrance and the guards. 

Kallus shook his head. “I had no idea,” he admitted, frowning, “I can’t believe a year has already gone by…”

“You’re not upset are you?” Zeb questioned, raising an eyebrow at Kallus. 

“Upset? About what?”

“Not being invited?” 

Kallus scoffed, “Gods no…It makes sense we weren’t invited. We didn’t fight on Jakku.” He paused, glancing up at Zeb, “Though, you think we should have, don’t you?”

Zeb hesitated, looking away from Kallus nervously. “Well…yeah,” he drawled, scratching his chin, “It would seem fitting to finish the fight we started, y’know? ‘Stead of hiding out on Lira San.”

“We weren’t hiding,” Kallus countered, “We were living out our lives, Garazeb. They did just fine without us. Besides, we’d done our part. There was little left for us to do on Jakku anyways. By the time the news reached Lira San they were practically finished with the battle.” 

Zeb frowned, dropping his hand and sighing; “‘Suppose you’re right…Still…would’ve been nice to bust some more bucketheads.” He cracked his knuckles and grinned. 

“It would’ve,” Kallus mused, nodding his head in agreement, “though for the time being, let’s do some sightseeing, yes?”

“Now you want to admit that’s what we’re doing?” Zeb chuckled. 

“No,” Kallus answered, “but I haven’t any other words for it so-“ 

He didn’t finish, instead, he simply smiled at Zeb and went quiet as the two of them continued to walk through the building, simply enjoying each other’s quiet presence.

Kallus didn’t have much to say about the Senate Building to Zeb, he figured to let him enjoy it himself, without Kallus’ input. Besides, Kallus himself hadn’t really ever been in the Senate Building before this. Maybe he visited once when he was a lot younger and still in the ISB Academy, but he hardly remembered anything from that trip other than the bitter feeling that resided inside him the entire tour towards the politicians who couldn’t be bothered to even care about the lower levels of Coruscant. 

Glancing over at Zeb though, he could tell that Zeb’s first time in the building wasn’t the same as Kallus’. There was no bitter look or anger on his features, just a quiet awe at everything in its grandeur and a small sense of pride in his walk as if he were proud that he’d been part of restoring the Galactic Senate to what it should be. 

Or at least, close to what it was supposed to be, before the Empire.

As they walked, it became clear that they were indeed planning something big such as an event fit for an anniversary such as the one that was around the corner. Despite it being almost dark out, there were still quite a lot of people still inside the building, wandering about, setting up, and going about their business, making Kallus question if the overwhelming feeling he felt when arriving was just a result of the upcoming celebration rather than his previously held idea that it was simply because he had grown used to the relaxed atmosphere on Lira San. 

“Now I’m wondering if we should stay past the celebration,” Zeb muttered to Kallus, his gaze slowly shifting from some people fixing floral arrangements to Kallus who was walking alongside him, “Seems like it’s going to be some event.” 

“Seemingly, yes,” Kallus nodded, keeping his voice down, “Afterall, it was a pretty big feat, what was accomplished on Jakku.”

“Well, if you’re up for it, I think we should stick around and see how it plays out,” Zeb conversed, a hopeful look in his eyes. 

Kallus sighed, but smiled, “I guess…Should be nice. It’s something worth celebrating anyways.”

Zeb grinned; “Yeah it is…”

On their walk, they were approached by a handful of different individuals, each who seemed to recognize them and felt convicted enough to thank them for their service during the beginning of the Rebellion. Each was about the same as the interaction with the guards, a simple, genuine thank you for the change, while a few were heavier, gushing declarations of gratitude that made Kallus’ heart ache and his head hurt until Zeb grabbed his hand and brought him back to reality. Some compliments were harder to accept than others, as Kallus didn’t think he was deserving of such praise, but to not disappoint, he would nod and smile, thanking the individual and tucking away that gratitude deep down. 

“You alright?” Zeb asked in concern as Kallus pulled him onto an open, vacant balcony that overlooked the glowing lights of the city below them. 

“To an extent,” Kallus answered, letting go of Zeb’s arm and walking towards the edge of the balcony to peer across the expanse of the districts below them. 

Zeb sighed, frowning as he walked over to Kallus, joining him by his side, his eyes on Kallus rather than the scene in front of them.

“Y’know, you’ve got to get used to people being grateful for ya,” Zeb muttered, giving Kallus’ shoulder a gentle, playful punch, “Can’t keep acting like your faults outweigh all the good you did.” 

Kallus sighed, lowering his head and chewing on his cheeks. He knew, in a way, Zeb was right, but he couldn’t help but feel guilty from time to time about everything he had done before joining the Rebellion. In time, maybe, he would forget the past and move on, but with every starry-eyed kid who approached Kallus, praising him for his sacrifice, Kallus couldn’t help but feel guilt settle in his bones. 

“All the good we did,” Kallus countered, not exactly confirming Zeb to be right and not exactly confirming that he was wrong either. He looked over at Zeb, giving him a reassuring, yet hesitant smile, “Don’t sell yourself short, Garazeb.”

Zeb chuckled softly, “I never do. It’s you, on the other hand, that does.” 

“One day,” Kallus hummed, looking back out towards the setting sun over what had once been the Jedi Temple, “one day.”

With a satisfied huff, Zeb’s gaze followed Kallus towards the disappearing sun as a settling silence started to encase around them. The air, up on the balcony was crisp as night approached, one by one buildings started to light up, illuminating their surroundings with flashing lights. Slowly lights began to turn on around the old former Temple, drawing both their gazes towards it in silent wonder. 

“That’s the Jedi Temple,” Kallus disclosed, his voice quiet as he cast a glance towards Zeb, “in case you were wondering…”

Zeb blinked, glancing between Kallus and the building in slight confusion. He had been wondering what that building was, how Kallus knew, he wasn’t sure, but the answer he was given was one he hadn’t really expected. 

He turned to Kallus, eyes wide, “You mean-”

Kallus nodded, drawing a breath, “The Jedi Temple where Kanan would have grown up in.”

The previously relaxed atmosphere became quiet despite the sounds of the city and speeders and tense with unease and grief over the mention of their late friend. Everything seemed to suddenly move in a silent, slow-motion, neither of them talking but both of them staring somberly at the Temple as the sun disappeared behind it. 

Kallus wasn’t sure why he brought it up, knowing that it would lower whatever mood they were having, and then finding an empty balcony that looked directly at the Temple was merely a coincidence, but he felt that he shouldn’t keep it a secret from Zeb. After all, Zeb had been good friends with Kanan, they were practically family, so what right did Kallus have to misinform Zeb?

Of course, it was a Jedi Temple no longer. The Empire claimed it after Order 66, took it and twisted it into something of their liking, and corrupted what it had once stood for. Now, Kallus wasn’t sure what the New Republic had done with it or planned to do with it, but the sight of what once stood there was a bittersweet one nonetheless. 

When Kallus was younger the Temple was one of the very few places he visited whenever he got the chance to get to the surface of Coruscant. Of course, he couldn’t go inside, but he’d watch the Jedis from the outside, in awe of the power that they held. Like many children, Kallus had idolized them, but as time went on, Kallus lost faith in the so-called peacekeepers of the galaxy. If they were so righteous, how come they never helped those out in the lower districts? How come they weren’t there for Kallus when his younger self needed it? Then after the so-called “betrayal of the Jedi,” any remaining idolization for the group was completely shattered. Kallus lost all faith in them and came to resent them as a whole. 

That is, until Kanan Jarrus and Ezra Bridger showed him exactly what a Jedi could and should be. The same kind that Kallus had idolized all those years ago; someone who was selfless and righteous, Someone who stood up for those who couldn’t stand up for themselves. Someone who restored hope . 

“Kanan never really talked about that place,” Zeb revealed, breaking the silence with a shaky voice. He cleared his throat, looking away from the Temple, but not back at Kallus. 

“I never really asked anyways,” he admitted with a frown, “but I think it was a sensitive topic for him… karabast -” he groaned, putting his hands on his eyes as he tilted his head back and inhaled sharply, fighting back tears. 

Before Kallus could do or say anything to try and comfort Zeb, the Lasat was already talking again, his hands dropping back onto the rail of the balcony, eyes teary and his voice cracking slightly. 

“I miss him. And Ezra,” he lamented, “they deserved to see things to the end..Deserved to-” he motioned around in the air to seemingly nothing, “deserved to finish what they started.” 

Zeb sighed, lowering his head as his ears flopped sadly to the sides, “Losing Kanan was bad enough…then Ezra had to go on and…” he trailed off, unable to finish. 

Kallus had seen how badly Kanan’s death and Ezra’s disappearance affected everybody. Not only the Ghost crew, but anyone who ever interacted with the two Jedis also felt the loss; the other rebels, Mon Mothma, Captain Rex, AP5, and Hondo, all of them with Jedi-sized holes in their hearts. It was even more difficult to deal with as time went on and the Rebellion continued to fight the oppressive chokehold the Empire had on the galaxy until they finally got their breath of fresh air.

It was unfair, Kallus agreed. Kanan and Ezra both deserved to see everything that followed their actions and deserved to see that their sacrifices did not go in vain. Kanan deserved to continue to fight alongside Phoenix Squadron and deserved to see his son and raise him alongside Hera. Ezra deserved to continue his training to become the great Jedi Kallus knew he was on the road to becoming, he deserved to see Lothal finally free from the Empire and its people thriving thanks to him and his determination to liberate his home planet. They deserved so much more than what they got but such was the way with Jedis, was it not? Sacrifice, great sacrifice. The peacekeepers of the galaxy who couldn’t get peace for themselves.

Ezra and Kanan had been prime examples of what it meant to be a Jedi, from what Kallus knew and heard about them before they were ruthlessly and wrongfully wiped out by Palpatine. They were both great Jedis, even with their attachments that Kallus knew would otherwise be looked down on by the old Jedi Order. 

Kriff , Kallus thought, chewing on his cheeks and blinking back tears. 

He missed them. 

Kanan had been the one to forgive him first, with that gentle touch and understanding voice; “ Thank you, for risking everything, ” is what he said. Back on the Ghost after they took their time to scoop him up from that escape pod. It was almost poetic that it was an escape pod that started his spiral into a rebel spy, back over Geonosis, and then it was the means of literal escape from the Empire over Atollon. 

Broken and beaten, weighed down with a pang of immeasurable guilt, undeserving of understanding or apologies, Kallus had stood to himself in the back of the Ghost .  Leaning on the hull, his broken leg throbbing as he kept to himself, wanting to disappear into the shadows; to hide from the faces of all the rebels who he’d put into danger by revealing the location of their base to Thrawn through his radio broadcasting as Fulcrum. Yet, despite all of it, Kanan’s five simple words sent waves of relief crashing down on him. Kallus would never forget it. 

And then there was Jabba - or Ezra. Sure, Ezra had been a nuisance to Kallus both before and after he became a rebel, but he’d grown on Kallus to the point where Kallus genuinely deeply cared for the teen. After all, seeing how much the rest of the Ghost crew cared so much for their Jedis, how could Kallus not?

To have seen and watched him grow from a cocky Loth-rat to a powerful young Jedi willing to make an ultimate sacrifice for his friends, family, and home world. To have known about his past, how long he was utterly alone for so much of his life (much like Kallus had been) with everything he’d ever known or loved ruined or taken by the Empire, yet never did he stray from the path that was good. It was admirable, truly admirable. 

He was a kid who overcame great feats, who’d been through terrible tragedies yet still somehow was able to push through them and look out for those who needed it. Though at times Ezra would irritate Kallus with relentless questions or pranks, Kallus felt honored to have known such a Jedi as Ezra. Someone who he believed was more than capable of coming back to them. 

“He’ll turn up eventually,” Kallus muttered, blinking several times to get rid of oncoming tears, “one day he’ll show up again.” He looked to Zeb, giving a reassuring smile he hoped would be returned. 

Zeb returned it, scoffing. Kallus could see the guilt and remorse in Zeb’s eyes, his ears flat against his skull, hands gripping the railing of the balcony so tightly his knuckles were a light shade of violet. Kallus knew how hard Zeb took Kanan's death and Ezra’s disappearance, even if Zeb acted as if it didn’t affect him all that much. He knew Zeb never really got the time to grieve for his close friend and his younger brother until after the war was over. Putting off the mourning had taken a considerable toll on Zeb but Kallus had been there, helping Zeb work through it all along the way, as he was doing now. 

“Yeah…” Zeb muttered, exhaling and letting go of the railing, his hands trembling slightly. “He always knew how to get himself out of trouble, didn’t he?” He chuckled dryly, a faint smile on his features as he reminisced about the many times Ezra got himself into (and eventually out of) trouble. Most of those times involved Zeb one way or another, either as the solution or an accomplice, but every time Ezra managed to get out of whatever mess he put himself in. 

“That he did,” Kallus nodded with a quiet chuckle, “It was a pain in the ass for me at first but…” he shrugged lazily, “at least now I can rest assured knowing that he can handle himself.”

He wanted his words to be true, he wanted to see Ezra again someday; not just for Zeb but also because he cared for Ezra as well. One day he wanted to see him again and maybe even bring him back to the Temple, knowing it might be something Ezra would appreciate and want to see. 

If only things had been different if only nothing so tragic had happened on Coruscant and had spread to the far edges of the galaxy all those years ago. Then maybe Kanan and Ezra would still be here, on Coruscant, alive and well, upholding their duties as peacekeepers of the galaxy. If only…

The previous heavy atmosphere started to shift into one that was a little more bearable. The feeling of grief was still there, though barely, but there was now a sort of quiet acceptance about it, as if bringing it up and believing that Ezra was still alive and well somehow brightened the mood, one way or another. 

Zeb turned, his sigh breaking the silence as he leaned against the balcony, his back towards the Temple. That bittersweet aura around him began to fade as he gently grabbed Kallus and pulled him closer by the waist, much to Kallus’ sudden surprise. 

“Thank you, Sasha” Zeb muttered gratefully, arms now wrapped around a confused and caught off guard Kallus, “for bringin’ me here…Even if you didn’t want to.” 

Understanding what was happening, Kallus chuckled, smiling fondly at Zeb, “The sacrifices I’ve made for you…” 

Zeb rolled his eyes playfully, his ears twitching bashfully, “Yeah, sure, call ‘em whatever you like…” 

The moments that followed were sweet and simple. Gentle gestures of affection and appreciation through soft touches and tender kisses in the cover of Coruscant’s night and lights. Zeb’s hands on Kallus’ waist, Kallus’ arms were around Zeb’s neck; every touch was a familiar feeling, yet underneath the dark skies of Coruscant, bare of stars unlike back at home, everything felt foreign. It was exciting almost and when Zeb pulled away with a smile that meant trouble, Kallus knew the feeling was so. 

“What?” Kallus questioned, raising an eyebrow at Zeb in caution, “What’s that look?”

“What look?” Zeb countered, faking innocence, “I have no idea what you’re talkin’ about.” 

Kallus shot Zeb his own look. 

“Fine, fine,” Zeb sighed, breaking, “‘s just…I had an idea.” 

“An idea?” 

Zeb nodded; “Yes, an idea. I want you to hear me out.” 

Kallus hesitated, but eventually, he gave in with a sigh, loosening his arms around Zeb so that his hands laid limp on Zeb’s shoulders; “I’m listening…” 

“Do you know of any good places to eat? Or maybe drink?” Zeb asked, tilting his head slightly, “‘S cuz I thought it would be a nice idea to go out for a little late night snack or drink…y’know, it would be a nice ending to the day.” 

While it wasn’t exactly what Kallus thought Zeb’s idea was going to be, he figured it wasn’t that bad of an idea, though he wasn’t sure how he felt about it exactly. On one hand, he could totally go for a drink, but on the other he would rather have a drink with Zeb in the quiet comfort of their hotel room rather than in some bustling bar. Besides, Kallus didn’t know of any good spots, he hadn’t been to any because the Academy never allowed it and he’d never been old enough to enter before he enlisted. The only places he did know of were in the lower levels and he wasn’t too keen on taking Zeb down there anytime soon. 

However, Zeb was once again giving him that bright-eyed, hopeful look, the one where his ears twitched in anticipation and his smile was small, yet optimistic. It was a look Kallus couldn’t say no to. 

“I guess…” Kallus sighed, giving in, “I guess I could go for a drink.” 

Zeb beamed, ear twitching, "Really?"

"Yes," Kallus nodded, "though I have no suggestions on where to go. I didn't…" he trailed off, starting again, "When I was here, at the Academy, I didn't really have time for things like…drinking.” 

Zeb made a face, one of amusement and disbelief; “You seriously never thought to rebel and have some fun?”

Kallus laughed, sweet like honey, shaking his head, “It might’ve crossed my mind a few times but that was only when I was rather young.” 

“Ah, right,” Zeb scoffed, smiling fondly, “well, if that’s the case, guess we can just walk around until we find something.” 

“Mmmh,” Kallus hummed, pulling away with a nod, “That’s an idea.” 

Zeb took Kallus’ hand into his, his features soft; “Lead the way.” 

Thankfully, it hadn’t taken long to find a nearby place to stop and have a drink. Kallus wasn’t too familiar with the area, but after a few minutes of walking and arguing over a holomap, the couple found themselves at the front of the bar, flashing advertising signs of neon yellow and pink with images of bottles and logos of various drinks lighting up both Kallus and Zeb’s faces in the looming dark of night. 

To Kallus’ delight, when they entered it didn’t seem too busy. There were a handful of individuals already eating and drinking, a few at tables in the corners playing card games like Sabacc, and others were just standing around, talking in voices that weren’t overwhelmingly loud for Kallus. It was as if they’d come at the right time, just before the onslaught of customers ready to participate in Coruscant night life and if Kallus could time it right again, they’d be gone before that crowd ever came. 

“Figured it would be busier,” Zeb commented, eyes scanning over the small crowd of people inside the bar, “Considerin’ everything else.” 

"Perhaps we've beaten the crowd?" Kallus suggested, looking back at Zeb with a shrug as he walked further inside.

“Maybe,” Zeb responded, following Kallus to the wrap-around bar counter that was situated in the middle of the building. 

They both took their seats on the bar stools that lined the glass countertop, a large glass tank filled with colorful moving water hanging above the bartenders as a centerpiece while holograms projecting different scenes flickered all around. One played the news, another was a screening of an opera, the ones of the ends were showing two different sports Kallus wasn’t acquainted with, the volume on the screens barely audible over the mild chatter from the other customers. 

“What can I get for you?” The droid at the bar asked, looking between the two newcomers as it got out some glasses. 

“I’ll have whatever he has,” Kallus answered, motioning over to Zeb with his head, not really minding whatever drink. He nodded in reassurance when Zeb looked at him with a raised eyebrow before continuing to examine the environment around him. 

Kallus’ eyes wandered around the establishment, taking in the sights and sounds of it all as Zeb ordered their drinks. Despite having never been to any bars or clubs on Coruscant’s upper levels when he had lived there, it was just about what he assumed them to be.

They were neat and organized, fancy and sophisticated; they weren’t trashy and crowded like the ones on the lower levels. He could tell that the patrons were people with money, uninterested in starting fights over bets, satisfied with their lives enough that the bar was a place for recreation rather than a way to forget everything wrong with the world and to drown yourself out with drinks. 

Kallus wasn’t sure how to feel about it. 

Though, when his eyes finally fell downward and looked across the bar counter, his heart came to a screeching stop for one, two, three seconds before picking up again with heavy, rapid beats that pounded in his ears. 

Across from him sat a lanky man, with skin the color of sakai-wood and dark hair that curled just below the ears. It was a man with long, bony fingers curled around a glass that was full of golden liquid; his voice the sound of a faded Imperial accent mixed with Correllian whiskey and his nose hooked and crooked. A man with dark, filmy eyes that once haunted Kallus’ nightmares, a sight Kallus would never forget. 

Across from Kallus sat Sinjir Rath Velus . 

In that instant, Kallus felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. He felt cold, his hands tensed around his just delivered drink, he couldn't help but stare at the man as his ears pricked with tension. Was that really him? Was it possible?

Swallowing thickly, Kallus looked away, trying to both steady his trembling hand and ease the phantom pain arising in his right leg. There was no way that this was who he thought it was. After all this time? He’d survived? 

“Kal?” Zeb’s voice snapped Kallus’ head over to him, “Hey, something wrong?”

Kallus stared back at Zeb’s concerned face, features twisted in a frown; “What’s going on, Sasha?” 

Blinking, Kallus looked away, instead turning to stare down at the bubbling brown liquid in his cup. “N-nothing,” he answered with a cough, “I just…” he cleared his throat, shaking his head before taking a long sip of his drink. 

When he set the cup down, he put his head in a propped up hand, attempting to hide his face from the man across from him. 

“I just thought I saw someone I knew,” Kallus answered, his voice quiet, afraid that he could be heard from across the bar. 

“Well, you seem pretty shaken up for this to be a good thing,” Zeb grumbled, moving Kallus’ drink out of the way, “Should we get out of here?”

“No, no!” Kallus quickly assured, shaking his head, “It’s probably…It’s probably nothing, don’t worry about it.” 

Though Zeb didn’t seem to buy it, he backed off, though Kallus could tell that Zeb was now a lot more tense and on edge than he had been earlier. Kallus wished that wasn’t the case, not wanting to ruin the moment or make Zeb feel so concerned over such a silly thing, but he figured he had overreacted. Right? 

What were the chances that it was Sinjir? That it was the Loyalty Officer from all those years ago? What were the chances that Sinjir had survived the two Death Stars? Endor? Jakku? The chances of someone looking like Sinjir were high, Kallus decided, but the chances of Sinjir surviving the Empire and being on Coruscant in the same bar as Kallus a year after the final battle against the Empire seemed near impossible. 

Maybe Kallus was just on edge. Maybe something about being on Coruscant, about seeing the lower levels and the Jedi Temple, and talking about Kanan and Ezra just put him on edge. Something about that must have just triggered old memories and as a result, this stranger sitting across from Kallus took the form of Sinjir Rath Velus. 

“Honey, you’re staring,” Zeb muttered, nudging Kallus’ shoulder, his gaze following Kallus’ stare to the man across the bar. It was a man Zeb did not recognize in the slightest; a man drinking and talking with another man sitting next to him, their intertwined hands resting on the countertop. 

“What? Oh-“ Kallus perked up and quickly looked away, face burning. 

“Why do you keep looking at the guy?” Zeb questioned, a slight itch of jealousy in his voice as he nodded towards the supposed Sinjir.

Kallus didn’t answer, instead, he took his cup back in his hands, tilting his head in an attempt to overhear the conversation that the man was having with the other man sitting next to him. He wanted - needed - to know if this was the same man from that bright room all those years ago. 

“Oh Conder, it’s the absolute worst ! You can’t imagine all the work Mon has me doing in perpetration for this…this political stunt. It’s ridiculous. It’s just so…eeeughh.” The man made a face, nose scrunched, tongue out, into the cup he held with his free hand.

“I think you’re just being dramatic, Sin.” The other man, Conder, answered, stroking his thumb over the top of the other man’s hand, fidgeting with a ring, “It’s a pretty big deal this whole celebration thing.”

“That’s my point,” the man countered, “this is important. This is big! So why put Sinjir Rath Velus in charge?” 

Once again the air was sucked out of the room and everything went cold. Except, only this time, everything seemed to slow down to a pause as that name, those three simple words, sunk into Kallus, confirming his suspicions. 

Somehow, someway, that was Sinjir. He was here, on Coruscant, in the bar, alive . 

The man who had beaten and berated him to near pieces on the Chimaera all those years ago. The man who saw Kallus at one of his lowest points in life, who had probably inflicted pain and death to so many before Kallus and after. A man who, like Kallus, had blood on his hands, who had been the source of so many whispers between officers, the center of rumors and suspicions; the best of the best when it came to a Loyalty Officer. A dense, engulfing void of pain and sick pleasure all wrapped into one lanky, dark man. 

Sinjir Rath Velus was here. In the flesh .

Kallus wasn’t sure what came over him in the following moments. He didn’t know if it was fear or anger that suddenly came up from the depths of his past, controlling him like a puppet on string, pulling him closer and closer to Sinjir until he stood behind him, fists clenched. What had compelled him to move, what had forced him to take those steps toward Rath Velus would forever be lost to Kallus in a storm of raw emotion. 

He could feel his chest rising and falling, could see the man turn his head, could hear Zeb saying something to him that entered burning ears in a muddled cacophony of noise. Everything was buzzing, tingling, everything around him was a colorful combination of sights and sounds that did not matter to Kallus in the moment. 

For a second, everything went numb. For a second, all Kallus could see were dark, dark eyes. 

“Sinjir Rath Velus,” Kallus breathed. 

It took a moment, but the man responded in a voice of smooth Corellian whiskey; “Alexsandr Kallus.”

Then Kallus’ fist made its mark.